It had been a week since the Tridem fight, and Jully still hadn’t let Damon forget it.
“Back before sundown,” she reminded him every single time he left. “Or so help me—!”
He’d learned his lesson. Mostly. He hadn’t been late again since.
Well... tonight might be different.
Damon leaned back in his chair at the tavern, a warm drink in hand. Across from him sat Mister Leon, an older adventurer with grizzled hair and a relaxed posture. Despite his age, his eyes were sharp—watchful.
“Got a new quest,” Damon said, glancing at the paper in his hand. “Disturbances in the forest. Monsters are acting up. More violent than usual.”
Leon took a slow sip from his mug. “Hmm. That so?”
“Yeah. Any idea why?”
“Well, for one,” Leon chuckled, “Jully’s taken a liking to you. If she’s still yelling, it means she still cares. As for the forest... could be a few things. Food shortage, maybe. Or a bigger predator moving in. Most likely, though? Territory disputes. Nature's politics.”
Damon nodded thoughtfully. “I was hoping it wasn’t the second option. Killing them all would wreck the balance out there. Forest needs predators, or it gets overrun with pests. So… guess I’ll have to do some investigating.”
Leon smiled and stood. He dropped a few coins on the table, then handed Damon a blank piece of paper.
Damon blinked at it. “Uh… this is just a piece of paper.”
Leon didn’t answer. He just gave a knowing smile and walked off into the night.
Damon frowned. “Not suspicious at all…” He folded the paper and slipped it into his coat. “Guess I’ll hang on to it.”
Outside, the sky was already darkening. “Crap. I'm gonna be late again.”
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He hurried back to the inn.
“Sorry if I’m a little late,” he called as he pushed through the door.
Jully looked up from behind the counter, arms crossed. “You barely made it. Try not to cut it so close next time, okay?”
“I know, I know. Won’t happen again.”
He stretched, wincing as his sore muscles protested. “Anyway, I think I’ll head to bed. Got an early start tomorrow. Forest trip and all.”
Jully nodded. “Be careful. And remember—back before sundown. And don’t die.”
Damon gave a tired smile. “You say that like it’s a daily risk.”
“It is,” she said. “Especially for someone like you.”
He laughed softly and headed up the stairs. “Fair.”
That night, something moved in the room.
A shadow stood silently over Damon’s sleeping form. It leaned in and pressed a hand gently to his forehead. Then—gone. As if it had never been there.
Damon woke with a jolt.
“Ugh… weird dream,” he muttered. “Something was standing over me. I think. Felt real, but it’s all fuzzy now...”
He rolled out of bed, rubbing his eyes. The sun was just starting to rise.
“Shit—I overslept.”
He grabbed his gear and bolted out the door. As he raced down the stairs, a whisper caught on the wind.
“Help…”
Damon paused. The voice was faint—so faint it could’ve been imagined. But it stirred something in his chest.
He shook his head. “No time. I’ve got a job to do.”
He took off running.
If I could just use Shadow Movement, he thought bitterly, I’d already be there. But no—my master had to be all cryptic. 'Figure it out yourself,' he said. 'Learn by doing.' Yeah, well, I’m doing—and I still suck at it.
His foot hit the ground with a crunch.
Then the earth gave way beneath him.
“What the—?!”
He dropped like a stone. The pit was deep—no bottom in sight. He flailed, trying to grab the smooth walls, but there was nothing to hold on to. He hit the ground hard.
Thud.
“Augh… who the hell digs a hole like this in the middle of nowhere?”
His whole body ached. But more than that, a strange, heavy exhaustion settled over him. His limbs wouldn’t respond. His vision blurred.
Out of the corner of his eye, something moved.
The figure from his dream. Watching.
Then—darkness.
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