Floor 1: Chapter Three - The Dusk Elf

The room was quiet for how close it was to trouble, just a few streets down from where those recruits jumped into the sewer.

I leaned against the second-floor window, arms folded, watching fog curl over the lantern-lit rooftops. I could barely see Xolob’s shop from here, but it was close enough for me to monitor the commotion from above. I spent the last few hours looking on as officers of The Watch came and went. Typically, they’d rope off a scene like that for days, investigating every detail, but surprisingly, they didn’t stay for long. That is, if you're excluding the overflowing number of guards now patrolling the streets nearby.

This wasn’t some secret hideout Val took me to. It was a regular inn… outside of the fact that this was the fanciest room I've ever stayed in. The floorboards didn’t creak. The windows weren’t cracked. And the mattress had actual stuffing in it. Not straw or bundled rags, but actual feather stuffing. Heavy velvet curtains framed the window I leaned against, filtering the outside light into a soft golden hue. A small glass lamp flickered steadily on the bedside table, giving off the faint scent of lilac oil. The walls were painted in dark wood, clean and polished, with not a single cobweb in sight. It had its own washroom with fresh towels laid at the foot of the bed.

For someone who’d spent most of last week sleeping in dirt and brush, it might as well have been royalty. I recalled the sign out front, “The Buzzard’s Keep”. I took a mental note of it for when I came into some money… As if that’ll ever happen.

According to Val, the owner, Durnan, knew how to keep his mouth shut and his books clean. I hadn’t decided yet if I believed him, but the place was so nice, I could hardly imagine voicing a complaint.

The daylight had waned, but wanting to be prepared for anything, Val and I were still in the clothes of the day. There was an unspoken tension in the room, but the silence between us eventually broke as Val shifted on the large, framed bed, leaning back like he owned the place, arms behind his head, one leg crossed lazily over the other. “So…” he led on, “You always dive into other people’s business like that?”

I didn’t even look at him. “You always introduce yourself by cutting off limbs?”

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “...It was clean.”

“It was excessive.” I scoffed, finally turning from the window.

“The guy was stealing from me!” He exclaimed, expression shifting into annoyance.

I paced a few slow steps before spinning on my heel. “Oh, I’m sorry, is your brain so hollow that shoving him wasn’t an option before you went straight to permanent dismemberment?”

“I did what I had to,” he scoffed with a slight gesture.

I stalked toward the center of the room, glaring. “You don’t feel bad about any of it, do you?”

“Why would I?” He stood, shrugging dramatically.

“Okay, so some wanna-be-gang-members tried to take your precious coin.” My arms waved dismissively. “You killed like three people for it, and you don't even fucking care.”

“They got what they deserved.” He muttered, unfazed. “And last I checked, not all those kills were mine.”

“Gods!” A bite of reluctant guilt washed over me as I marched to the chair near the hearth and dropped into it with a sigh. “You’re impossible!”

“And you’re nosy,” he shot back, marching forward a few steps. “Maybe next time you’ll mind your own fucking business.”

“Excuse me?” My gaze snapped to his. “I saved your ass!”

“I never asked you to step in,” he retorted, voice rising.

“And I didn’t ask to be stuck in a room with a bloodthirsty maniac!” I shouted, springing up from the chair in a quick motion. “...But here we are.”

He gestured back at me in an exaggerated motion. “I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t tackled me like a lunatic!”

“Because you were about to charge headfirst into a gang-infested sewer, you crusty piece of splunk!”

“Maybe if you’d used your eyeballs, you’d have seen that I, obviously, had it handled!” He responded, both of us taking a step toward the other.

“I had it handled,” I repeated in the most mocking voice I could muster, rolling my shoulders so hard my head flowed with them. “I swear to the gods, you are such a fucking dimwit!”

“No one asked for your dumb-ass help!”

This ungrateful prick! I began an angry march towards him, voice rising with each step. “You’re right! Next time I’ll let them drive a bolt through your smug face and be done with it!”

We were practically nose to nose now, though he was probably a foot taller than I. Our breath held in clenched teeth, the space between us charged and dangerous. His hands had curled into fists at his sides, matching mine, which were already tight enough to ache.

Neither of us moved.
Or blinked.
Or breathed.

The room coiled into a tension so tight it might’ve snapped if either of us so much as blinked wrong. But before it could explode, a sharp knock resonated from the door. Sending us jolting back like we’d been caught doing something illicit.

Shit! “...Who is it?” I spoke through the door with a threatening tone. A short moment passed before a thoughtful response: “...It’s Durnan darling… I brought stew.” His voice was somehow both monotone and cutting. A split between the usual ghostly echo and charming grit.

I let out a sigh, the tightness in my shoulders unwinding a little, as Val unlatched the door.

It creaked open, revealing a tall, skeletal figure, flesh clinging to him in patches like it couldn’t decide whether to stay or go. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your lover’s quarrel,” Durnan said with dripping sarcasm before stepping in with a tray. “Figured I’d bring the evening’s stew since I didn’t catch you at dinner.” He set the tray down at the end table, gliding across the room with far too much elegance for someone seemingly held together by necromantic suggestion.

Val muttered a quiet “Thanks,” while I eyed the bowl, then the man… skeleton.

Durnan didn’t leave right away, though. Instead, he stood near the center of the room, brushing imaginary dust from his jacket sleeve. “Well, while I have you both, there’s something I wanted to bring up… Been meaning to ask around.”

I raised an eyebrow in sarcasm while taking my bowl from the nearby table, “So you don’t usually hand-deliver stew to make small talk.”

“No, but what better way to break the ice than to give you two something to think about?”

I groaned, but Val smirked at the gesture, taking a seat across from me. He’d already started eating, spoon clinking against the bowl. The stew looked so much better than I wanted to admit. It was thick with savory beans, and whatever meat was in there, all of it rich in aroma. I tried not to make a sound of approval as I took the first bite.

Damn it, it's so good.

Durnan continued arrogantly. “I’ve heard a few things. Ghost talk, you know.”

My gaze shifted between curiosity and impatience. “...And?”

“...And… some unsettling undead have started appearing near the northwest wall, coming from the forest. Zombies, Bony types, Crawlers, you get the gist… The wall guards have been handling it as they appear, but I want to recruit some able-bodied individuals willing to check it out. Investigate… you know.”

I sneered, shoveling another spoonful into my mouth. “Okay, so call The Watch, or inform the Queen. I’m sure they’d do something about it if it were worth looking into.”

Durnan responded quickly, “No…I have the money to hire someone myself, and I don’t want to go telling everyone about it, in case it leads to something profitable.”

Val interrupted between bites, “Wait, so, let’s say it doesn’t lead to anything. Would we still get paid?”

“Of course!” Durnan responded quicker than before. “I’d even be willing to give you an advancement… twenty-five gold coins now, fifty when you get back… Assuming you find something noteworthy.”

“You’re kidding!?” I exclaimed, trying not to gawk at the thought of gold coins. It was almost enough to forget about the delightful stew in front of me.

I guess he does own this fancy inn, so it makes sense he’d have the money to spare.

“I am not,” Durnan retorted without missing a beat.

That’d be enough to set me up for a while and get some decent gear for once. I’ll probably be going back into the forest to hunt or visit Dent soon anyway… It’s perfect.

“That’s quite the offer.” Val gestured toward me with his spoon, as if telling me to calm down. “…But if we’re going to be fighting unknown undead, then we’ll probably need more than just the two of us.”

Oh yeah… accepting means I’d be stuck with this nutcase.

“That’s probably for the best,” Durnan responded. “I agree.”

I’d rather we shake hands and never see each other again, come tomorrow, but damn it…I could really use this job.

“And if we’re not interested?”. I asked sharply.

“Then you enjoy your stew and sleep in peace, but know you’ll be missing out on something interesting and profitable for both of us.”

“One-hundred gold,” I interrupted, hoping he hadn’t already noticed my armor was in shambles. “We’d need to split it with at least one other, so less isn’t worth our time.”

Durnan reached into his coat, producing a small leather pouch that jingled lightly as he set it on the table beside the tray.

“Fine. Twenty-five now and…”

“Fifty,” I retorted. “Twenty-five for each of us… We’ll need it to recruit and buy supplies.”

Durnan let out a sigh. “Fine…”

Selene wouldn’t have been so accepting, stingy old bat, but she also doesn’t have money like this geezer.

“I assume you’ll have fully accepted if I do not see this coin back on my desk by morning.” With that, he turned toward the door, skeletal feet clinking softly against the wood floor before practically growling, “I trust you’ll be making this a priority… And try not to kill each other before breakfast. You’ll need that energy for the exploration.”

I’d nearly finished my stew when the door creaked shut behind him, and the two of us stared at each other in silence.

Then Val smirked, “Nice haggling.” He scooped the last bit of broth from his bowl and slurped it loudly.

Why do the gods have to make the pretty ones so irritating? “I still don't like you,” I said in a quick response.

He laughed in a low tone. “Aw, don’t be like that. I’m sure you’ll be dreaming about me in no time.”

Is he trying to flirt? I thought before responding, “I wouldn't wish such horrific nightmares on anyone.”

He tilted his head in a dramatic arc, “Nosy and full of attitude. If you didn’t smell like garbage, you’d be the whole package.”

My eyes rolled as hard as possible, “Oh, what a tragedy, it’d be for you to die in your sleep.”

“Whatever, princess. You need me, and we fight well together.”

I’ll never tell him, but we did have some uncanny coordination in that shop… Wait… Did he just call me princess?

I scooped up my last bite of stew before responding, “Whatever. I practically carried your impotent ass.”

“Oh, please, I saw you hurl your guts up.”

“And you nearly tripped over a broom handle.” I stood up from my chair as the room fell silent. He only smirked in response, so I continued, turning towards the washroom, “I'm taking a shower.”

“Yeah, you need one.” He muttered, still slopping the last remnants of stew.

“Ugh, go to hell …and don't call me princess!” I said before slamming the door.

"...Try not to dream of me while you're in there," Val remarked through the closed door.

Gods! I swear I’m going to kill him.

The washroom was surprisingly luxurious. White stone tiles covered the floor, polished so smooth I could see the scuffs on my boots reflected back at me. An ornate basin rested on a pedestal, glimmering faintly with embedded sigils. Soft linen towels hung from a rack warmed by gentle enchantment.

I yanked at the straps of my armor, fingers stiff with frustration, before promptly leaning against the basin in front of an elegant mirror. I was so angry I wanted to scream, but I peered into it, breathing deeply to calm myself.

You know what, a hot shower is exactly what I need.

In the far corner, a curved stall framed in black iron held a wide basin with a rune plate on the wall. When pressed, hot, clean water cascaded down from the inlaid stone above. Steam filled the space quickly, curling around my limbs as I stepped out of my armor piece by piece.

My bones ached as I let out a sigh, finally relaxing before stepping into the warm torrent of refreshing water. I stood there for a long few moments, closing my eyes and letting the grime of the day fall to the stone floor. Val's words echoed, taunting and smug in my mind. That smirk. That voice. That irritating confidence.

Ugh. Why did he have to be so… I shook my head, letting the water and steam drown the thoughts away. Tomorrow, I’d go see what Eshlyn had found out about that dark blood. Tonight, I just needed to breathe.

What a crazy few days.

I stayed in the washroom longer than I meant to. Letting the heat soften my muscles and rinse the frustrations away. When I finally stepped out, I dried off with one of the warm towels and changed into my loose travel clothes: a worn linen shirt and trousers. It wasn’t what I’d normally wear to bed, but there was no way I’d be letting that prick see me in small clothes. I met my reflection in the mirror once more before stepping out into the room, finally clean… I thought I looked well despite it all.

The room outside was dark, only faintly lit with a dimmed lantern resting on the nightstand by my side of the bed. I knew I’d have to share with Val, but I reassured myself there was plenty of room to be comfortable. I could sleep on the floor, but that’d mean passing up on the best mattress I’d ever laid eyes on, and to my delight, Val was already fast asleep on the other side, so I climbed in before fully dimming the lantern.

A deep exhale escaped me. Since when did I get in the habit of sharing a bed with…Men.

---

                                                                            …

 

 

I woke up to the sound of the outside tree tapping lightly against the window and the opalescent hue of sunlight slipping through its velvet curtains. For a moment, I nearly forgot all about the day before, the battle, the anxiety-fueled hiding, Durnan’s offer, and most of all, Val’s unrelenting irritations. The bed beneath me was soft, the air still. I could scent the lilac still clinging faintly to the room like a polite guest that hadn’t yet overstayed its welcome. It was so different from the cold forest floor and threadbare hammocks of the past week that it made my chest ache a little.

I’ll never get used to this. I sighed, blinking slowly, before stretching beneath the fine wool blanket. No rustling leaves. No dirt in my hair. No eerie moans. Just peace and… quiet.

Quiet? I sat up, suddenly remembering where I was… and who I was with, but Val’s side of the bed was empty.

Of course. He probably woke up before dawn just to avoid the awkwardness …Fine by me.

The room somehow felt lighter without his smug presence. Then I saw it. At the foot of the bed, neatly laid out across the wooden trunk, was a full set of leather armor. More than that, this set was reinforced, fitted loosely to my size and shape, and stitched with real care. Dark brown with subtle brushed steel buckles, curved black plates over the ribs and shoulders, subtle enough to move in but sturdy enough to actually do something if I got hit. It even had a belt, with twin dagger loops already attached.

My breath caught for a second before I looked around, half expecting it to be a joke or maybe a dream, but it was real. I wasted no time getting out of bed, finally noticing that on top of the folded armor was a small scrap of parchment with a jagged scrawl:

Thanks for saving my neck yesterday...

I know I can be an ass sometimes.
We should talk about the job.
Meet me downstairs when you’re ready.
– Val

I held the note for a long moment, rereading it even though the words hadn’t changed.

Val… Apologizing??? …And the armor? That couldn’t have been cheap or easy to find. He must’ve been up all night to track something like this down. Still… My head shook with a smirk, “That asshole,” I muttered, unable to silence the smile that tugged at the corner of my mouth. Then took my time getting dressed.

The leather clung tight in the right places, the lining soft where it needed to be. It felt like stepping back into my skin but better, stronger. After strapping my daggers to my new belt and slinging the black-twined bow over my shoulder, I gave myself a final once-over in the polished mirror by the door.

Not bad.

I pulled my hair into a knotted tie, tucked the note into my satchel, and opened the door. Ready to see what kind of trouble breakfast would bring.

---

                                                                            …

 

 

The dining room of the inn was quiet, too early for other guests that, I imagine, had nothing going on, and probably too expensive for the rest. Heavy beams lined the ceiling, polished wood floors catching morning light through tall arched windows. A long fireplace glowed low with embers from the night before, and the smell of freshly baked bread drifted from somewhere behind the kitchen wall.

Val sat at a corner table near the window, posture relaxed, but his eyes flicked to the entrance the moment I stepped in.

I crossed the room and dropped into the seat across from him, trying not to meet those icy blue eyes of his. His expression was cool, flat, and unreadable as always, but he gave a slight nod as I settled in. A moment of silence passed before I cleared my throat. “The armor... It's nice… thank you.”

He shrugged like it was nothing. “Don't mention it, I’m just glad it fits.”

“You didn’t have to do that”, I said, awkwardly looking down.

“I know someone,” he replied, waving a hand dismissively. “ …Called in a favor is all. Besides, I couldn’t stand how pitiful you looked in well… what you had on before.”

I rolled my eyes before muttering sarcastically. “How considerate of you.”

He smirked faintly but didn’t reply. Typical. Still, I let it go. I wasn’t about to push him, given he was obviously trying to downplay the gesture.

A spirited server drifted up to the table, translucent form flickering slightly in the sunlight. Her eyes glowed faintly as she hovered a quill above a notepad that floated on its own, scribbling in ghostly ink. She took our orders with a pleasant, detached smile: fresh bread, soft cheese, eggs, and something she referred to ominously as “recently dead meat.”

I decided not to ask for details.

“So,” Val said once we were alone again, stretching back slightly in his chair, “you from around here?”

I shook my head. “Floor Five.”

He nodded. “Hmm. What do I know about Five... that’s the spring floor, right?”

I should really start lying when people ask where I’m from.

“Interesting, you know that. But yes.” I buttered a slice of warm bread, letting the silence draw out a bit. “And you?”

“Six,” he said, and didn’t elaborate.

Another ascender. Of course.

I leaned back, arms crossed. “So you’re here for the challenge.”

“Takes one to know one.” He said, reaching for a slice of cheese before adding. “We both arrived within the same few weeks, unaffiliated and clearly not from around here… Doesn’t take a genius.”

“Let me guess, you think we should team up,” I interrupted with a tinge of sarcasm.

“Why would you think that?” He questioned.

“Oh.” I realized I might have come off condescending, so I tried to play it off. “It’s just that time of year… everyone's scrambling.”

“Not you, though? ” Another half-question.

I didn’t care to elaborate. “Nor you, it seems.”

“Yeah… so about that,” he muttered, taking a slow sip from a mug that looked like it held thick tar, “We can see how this job with Durnan goes, but… We might want to split off after that.”

“Perfect.” I nodded, a bit surprised by how logical he seemed now, but I hid it behind a bite of eggs. “You’d be better off joining a group more… your speed, anyway.”

He smirked but didn’t comment right away. Silence stretched a beat too long before I asked, “So what were you doing in Xolob’s anyway?”

Val’s jaw tensed as he cut through a piece of sausage. “Looking for something. Or someone.”

“Ahhh,” I said, making an exaggerated writing motion in the air. “Touchy subject, do not ask about shopping.”

He glared at me with a dry expression. “Xolob gets weird things. Stuff from other ascenders. I’m looking for someone who ascended some time ago. Thought maybe Xolob had something they left behind.”

“Did they?”

“No.”

“This person...” I tilted my head. “Do you know what floor they’re on now?”

“No,” he said again, eyes flicking to the window. “But I intend to find out.”

“And what's your beef with the Xanathar’s Guild?”

He didn’t answer right away, so I filled the space.

“...They could be a big problem for us.”

Val’s gaze returned to mine. “How much do you know them?”

“Too much,” I said, spearing another bite of eggs. “They run most of the underground where I’m from. Smuggling, trafficking, assassinations, anything that pays, and they’re especially aggressive when someone cuts into their profits.”

His lips tightened. “Didn’t realize they were so widespread.”

“Yup …And if they’re after you…” I gave him a meaningful look. “Well… I’d consider you as good as dead.”

Val didn’t flinch. “Ehh. They’ll have to get in line then.”

A beat of silence passed while we chewed through much of our plates.

“Do you know anyone who could help with Durnan’s little undead problem?” he asked, washing down the last of his food.

I nodded. “Yeah. I know someone. He’s… strange, but reliable. Good in a fight.”

“What’s his name?”

“Dent,” I said. “Lives out near the forest edge.”

“Great.” Val raised a brow. “Let’s go get him.”

“Not so fast… I need to check on something first, but we can meet up later.”

“This afternoon?” he asked.

“Sure, let's meet outside the southern gate.”

“Why the southern gate? We’re supposed to head northwest.”

“Yeah, but Dent’ll be easier to find if we follow the river. We can head north after that.”

Val nodded and sipped from the remnants of his questionable drink. “Fine then. I’ll be there.”

“I guess if this job goes well,” I finished my last bite of bread and pushed my plate away. “Maybe we won’t kill each other after all.”

He gave a faint smirk. “It could still happen.”

Just as I was brushing the last of the crumbs from my hands, a skeletal figure passed over the table. “Would you look at that,” came Durnan’s unmistakable rasp, “my favorite murder suspects sharing a civil breakfast.”

We both ducked our heads. “Shit, Durnan, could you say that any louder!?” Then looked up to find him grinning… well, as much as a partially reanimated skeleton could grin.

“We’re discussing the plan, Durnan. What do you want?” Val asked, sighing.

“Oh, nothing,” Durnan said breezily. “Just heard from a certain server that the two of you were eating breakfast together. And since it’s the dawn of a beautiful partnership, I thought I’d bring a little something.” He revealed a small plate from behind his back and slid it between us. A slice of honey-drenched apple tart, still warm. “Consider it a congratulations-for-not-ghosting-me dessert,” he added, clearly proud of himself for incorporating ‘ghost’ into the sentence.

I raised a brow in a cheerful question. “You always bribe your freelancers with sweets?”

“Only the living ones,” Durnan replied. “The dead are more agreeable.”

Val gave him a flat look, but I reached for the tart anyway. The honey had pooled into the crust’s corners, sticky and fragrant.

The first bite was pure bliss, sweet and warm… I nearly moaned. “We’ll be heading out this afternoon,” I said through another bite. “Northwest, like you said.”

Durnan clasped his bony hands together. “Splendid! Then I wish you safe travels and look forward to your return.” Then drifted away, gliding between tables with eerie charm, pretending not to watch us as we finished up.

I licked the honey from my thumb and gave Val a sideways glance. “Remind me why we took this job?”

Val pushed the plate toward me. “Cake or coin, can't quite remember which was more persuasive.”

Hard to argue with that. Things are certainly turning around for me.

---

                                                                            …

 

 

I peered cautiously out of the inn’s door, attempting to melt into the city’s early bustle.

Fewer guards than last night. That’s a good sign.

The City of Souls was always in motion, even if most of its residents weren’t technically alive. The cobbled streets were lined with drifting spirits and the occasional merchant hawking wares like “memory crystals” or incense supposedly scented like childhood nostalgia. It was always eerie, but today it felt beautiful, in a faded sort of way.

I kept my hood up like usual and picked up a few supplies for the road. A few canteens, some rations, a quality bedroll, an extra cloak, a lantern, and any simple thing that I didn’t already have or could upgrade from my past trips into the Dead Forest. Now that I had some real coin, decent armor, and a lightly used but still good-quality bow, the whole thing seemed much easier. I still had enough gold to buy a healing potion, but I needed to hold onto what I could since we may not find anything worthy of Duranan’s promised secondary payment.

A newfound view of rejuvenation was in the air when I made my way over to The Witches Brew. Its friendly sign creaked lazily in the morning breeze. I pushed open the apothecary door to the familiar chime of bells and the scent of herbs.

Selene wasn’t behind the counter this time. But Eshlyn was.

Great! The rich girl’s looking after the store, just what I needed to lighten the mood.

She looked up from a heavy tome as I walked in, purple hair braided back, sleeves rolled up as if the current tome required her to read extra hard. Her green eyes quickly met my own. “You’re back,” she said, as if surprised.

“You told me to come back, didn’t you?” I said in a similarly surprised tone.

“I did,” she murmured, slapping the book shut. “It's a good thing, too, Selene is on her way to deliver a sample to the queen's herbalists.”

I was so busy being delighted with the day that I had almost forgotten how alarming the dark sludge seemed and how disturbing it was when it twitched.

They’re bringing it to the queen!?

I raised a brow, practically dropping my pack as I ran up to the desk. “Ok and… what did you find out?”

Eshlyn walked to the back table where the vial of thick, black liquid still sat. It was now housed inside a more secure glass container, the old one showing signs of corrosion.

What happened to the glass?

“It’s not blood,” she began, gesturing toward the substance. “Or, it was similar at some point. But the longer it sat, the more it… changed.”

Changed?

“Changed how?”

She hesitated. “From what I gather… It’s a colony. Thousands of parasitic entities, moving as one. They feed off of living aether and reanimate whatever they infest. The troll you supposedly got it from… wasn’t undead by normal standards. It was being controlled. Like a puppet.”

“Holy shit! That's terrifying.” My mouth went dry. “And what if someone were to… come into contact with it? Or ingest it?”

Her expression sharpened at the thought. “Exactly how much contact did you have with it?” she asked in an alarmingly relaxed tone.

“Well, none…I don't think but… Just tell me what would happen!” I practically shouted.

“Well, there is more to be studied, but contact would be damaging. Ingestion would be considerably worse. The parasites wouldn’t just kill the host… they’d use the body afterward. Not a quick death, either. The parasites would hollow you out. And then…” She trailed off, clearly uncomfortable. “ ...wear you like a coat.”

A cold pressure settled in my chest.

Dent! He had torn that troll apart with his teeth.

The memory of that black sludge splattering his fur, coating his snout. All of it flashed in my mind like a nightmare made vivid. “I think someone might have eaten it,” I said, with a quiet, blank stare. As if unable process exactly what it all meant.

Her eyes snapped to me with a slight alarm. “Who?”

“Someone I met. A druid shapeshifter. He fought it in bear form. Ripped it apart with his teeth. …It got it all over him!” My voice came faster now, the pieces falling into place. “He saved my life, but… He must have swallowed some of it!”

Eshlyn didn’t hesitate, grabbing up multiple potions and vials from her own collection. “Take me to him.”

I blinked. Dazed.

She was already snatching her satchel and slipping on a cloak. “If there’s even a chance he’s infected, we need to get to him now. If it hasn’t killed him yet, we might still have time.”

I nodded, heart pounding. “Alright… Well, are you ready, now?” I asked, slightly panicked. “I’ll take you to him, but he’s a half day away… Maybe less if we hurry.”

She quickly grabbed an intricate-looking metal staff after scribbling a note to leave on the counter, “I have everything I need. Let's go.”

Eshlyn locked the store behind her, and just like that, we slipped into the city, racing toward the river near the edge of the woods, and whatever waited for us inside Dent’s veins.