The all-consuming darkness was scattered only by the dim light of candles. Four men and a woman sat at an old, worn table. The dispute was brisk. Opinions flew between the speakers like arrows. Such a setting was nothing new for truth is found in arguments. And the art of such negotiations is measured only by the ability to keep one's head by the end of it. In every sense of the word.

  It would not hurt to maintain dignity either but that was not a priority. Each of those present barely qualified as a worthy citizen of Forfield. Though the clothes of some spoke eloquently of their high status. Yet conspiracy has never added honor or years to anyone’s life. Nevertheless, they all remained in their places and would stay there until dawn though their hideout would not grant them the pleasure of watching the sunrise.

  Everyone fell silent when the supply of reasoning was exhausted. A middle-aged man sitting at the head of the table covered his eyes with his palm with a sigh and went still. A night of negotiations had brought neither results nor pleasure. The solution to the problem loomed close, but reaching it seemed nearly impossible. Finally, he stood up, announced a break, and walked out, leaving the others in tense silence.

  He longed to feel the breath of the wind, and as the rays of the morning sun touched his face, he sighed with relief. Hearing footsteps behind him, the man turned around. A woman was standing nearby. He glanced at her and nodded, indicating that he was listening.

  When she spoke, not a single emotion flickered in her voice as he watched her intently. The leader of the resistance bored into her with his gaze, greedily absorbing her words. Breaking her monologue, she gracefully brushed a strand of black hair from her face, and only then something flickered in her eyes that made her look slightly like a living human being.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Do you have any other options?"

  The man sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. His face betrayed deep confusion and indecision.

  "I don't think this is a good idea. He could help us, or he could ruin us."

  "It's at least worth a try." For a moment, the woman faltered, as if remembering something deeply personal, and only after a while she spoke again. "I know him."

  "Do you think he remained loyal to the old ideals?"

  "Yeah." She gave a crooked smile. "Look, I'm alive because of him. Besides..."

  Trailing off, the woman took a breath.

  "What?" the leader grunted impatiently.

  "I think it will be hard for him to refuse me, and he won't betray me."

  "He is just a mercenary, after all."

  "It doesn't matter. We were friends."

  "Fine," the man sighed, adjusting the collar of his suit. "Alright, but we will check him out anyway. Hans will handle it. If it works out, I will have to ask you to be present during our conversation, since he will find it so 'hard' to refuse you."

  Emphasizing the last word, he grimaced with contempt and turned away. This made no impression on the woman. Her face remained cold and indifferent. Every trace of her earlier hesitation had vanished.

  "I heard he’s back to Forfield."

  "Where?"

  "In Bragos. Hurry. He doesn't stay in one place for too long."

  ***

  Returning to Bragos after all these years, Reed expected at least some changes, but only disappointment awaited him. The streets were just as dismal and impoverished as before. It wasn’t that it troubled him, but it didn’t please him either. He would have to exert himself to find work or travel further, closer to the capital. He stayed on the outskirts, as he had no money for a room. Besides, it wasn't necessary. The summer had turned out warm, almost unbearably hot, and sleeping in the forest proved not to be so unpleasant.

  Going into town on matters, he tried not to think about the circumstances that had brought him to Bragos last time. So much time had passed since then that it sometimes felt like a figment of his imagination. Nonetheless, Reed did not hide from this past or try to bury it deep within himself. He simply accepted it as a fact, occasionally recalling bygone days with a shadow of sadness.

  Ten years is a long time, but not for men like Reed. For him, time had slipped by quickly, and he could barely remember what he had been doing. Rare moments, the most vivid ones, surfaced in his memory, but they settled in his soul as something insignificant, unnecessary, and not worth stirring up once more. He had spent some time in Saisen. Those were the golden years, for Reed had never earned so much anywhere else. Saisen surprised him with its cleanliness. No other country in Emeron could boast the same. The same went for the number of intrigues Reed consistently became entangled in as an enforcer. The pay was good enough for him to keep his mouth shut and not meddle in matters deeper than he should.

  Working in Saisen also taught him how to flee quickly. He had learned this lesson all too well and remembered it every time his left hip throbbed with pain and his old scars ached. The people of Saisen were as hot-headed and quick-tempered as they were wealthy. Reed favored the latter, while the former pleased him only rarely, and only when it didn’t concern him personally.

  Next was Parey. It was a land rich in farmland and urban legends that sometimes made him want to roll his eyes until they fell out. The people there were superstitious but simple, and Reed felt relatively comfortable in Parey. He felt almost at ease, in fact, until he revealed his ears. Elves were treated with slightly more contempt there than in Bradenmain, so he couldn't stay long. The rocky terrain offered no cheerful prospects, and Reed had no desire to work for peasants quarreling over sheep, although he found Parey a pleasant enough place to settle down for the rest of his life. Provided you weren't an elf, of course. There were so many legends about elves in Parey that had he remembered them all, he could have written an entire book.

  His adventures in Parey ended interestingly, though not as thrillingly as in Saisen. He was declared a wanted man, and for an entire month, every soul tried to turn him in. It was quite a journey. To reach the border of Antari, Reed spent almost all the money he had managed to earn. Consequently, he entered Antari with empty pockets. Only a couple of coins jingling pitifully separated him from being a total pauper. He even had to sell his horse.

  Antari met him with revelry and debauchery. For a while, Reed even found himself enjoying it. Sometimes he managed to get drunk at someone else's expense and vanish before dawn. On other occasions, he got involved in interesting affairs, earned money, and then consistently squandered it all in some random bar, though he often wondered how he could have done so. Reed had never been one for carousing, but the country itself, that little devil, was impossible to resist.

  His path stretched from the borders of Parey to the port cities, where Reed stayed for two whole years. He was hired by a local wealthy man to guard ships and his priceless cargo. The pay was good, and Reed decided that things weren't so bad. A distinct advantage of Antari, besides the wide variety of bars and taverns full of women of easy virtue and unimaginable swill of all kinds, was the attitude toward elves.

  In Antari, no one gave a damn about the shape of one’s ears as long as the money was flowing. And it often was, so Reed grew fond of Antari. He served on the ship for two years and, for the most part, had no complaints. He even liked it. Having grown significantly stronger and made many interesting acquaintances, Reed began to gradually forget all his adventures in Bradenmain. Much faded from memory, and the sea breeze and the sound of the waves were excellent at clearing his head when things became too heavy.

  Nevertheless, Reed remembered his small duty. Somewhere there, in Forfield, Meredith lived, and he had promised to give her a chance for a good future. Every year, Reed sent substantial sums, sometimes even more than required, to madame Eirene's boarding house, hoping it would be enough to ensure Meredith was treated better than the others. The need to think of her imposed certain limits. Even when there was no longer a need for it, Reed was slow to grow accustomed to the thought that he no longer had a reason to set aside a portion of his income.

  Sometimes, if he stayed in one place long enough, letters from the boarding house would arrive at the return address. Meredith wrote constantly, but he never replied. He didn't throw the letters away either. He read them, tucked them carefully into his bag, and only rarely allowed himself to revisit them. In every letter, there was a line or two pleading for him to come. But he had no intention of doing so. Reading her messages, Reed felt sharp stings of conscience and only rarely could he calm himself with the thought that he had done the right thing. And he had, but there is no escaping oneself, and it was also impossible to stop reading her letters. Reed kept every one and, contrary to his hopes, did not forget her.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Time had not smoothed his memory of her, and only on the fourth year of their separation, when Meredith stopped writing, he managed to force himself to think of her a little less often. That was also her last year at the madame's boarding house, and Reed sadly caught himself thinking that he would never receive another message.

  Meredith had forgotten him. In some ways he was glad, but in others he missed the letters, though he could not find the strength to write back even a single word. He could not explain the reasons for his departure and feared that sooner or later he would return anyway, despite all reasons and thoughts of what was right. So he did not tempt himself, deciding that he was right when he left. Meredith had no need for the company of a bandit, especially during such a period of her life.

  Reed sent his last letter to the boarding house while still in Antari, only a month after he had been hired onto the ship. He remained there for a long time but never received anything else from the madame except for one last, meager letter written in a firm hand with large, heavy script, nothing like the ones Meredith had penned. In her final letter, the madame "happily reported" that Meredith had completed her studies and left the boarding house at the beginning of summer. Reed heard nothing more. He lost himself in work and the pleasures of life in Antari, and even almost stopped waiting for news.

  As his two years of service on the ship were coming to an end, Reed found himself wondering about Meredith. He often remembered her and Bradenmain, and a couple of times he felt the urge to go looking for her, as by then she must have become fully grown. Surely, she would have understood. Yet each time, he stopped himself. Her image remained in his memory, and he did not want to be rid of it, but thinking about it too often was difficult. Soon Reed forbade himself those thoughts, growing hardened once more and accepting everything as a given. One cannot drag the past along. Meredith became a closed chapter that only rarely reminded him of her, if Reed allowed it.

  Reed spent the seventh year of his travels in eastern Antari, in a large trading city where he took work from yet another pot-bellied man. And then there was another. Clients replaced each other, and Reed did not remember their faces at all before returning once more to work on a ship. There were many mercenaries like him there, but as usual, Reed remained alone. He sought neither friends nor enemies, so his relationship with the crew remained neutral. On the ship called the Karin, Reed spent a little more time than on his previous one. Sometimes he got into scrapes and sometimes he even enjoyed them, but eventually the path led him to Brazanas.

  Reed found no work in Brazanas, nor did he particularly want any. He had enough money as well as the sense to avoid getting involved with the giants, as they were called throughout Emeron. Just one look at them gave Reed goosebumps, and soon Forfield met him again. At some stage of his journey, Reed had already considered the possibility of crossing the ocean again, staying there, and casting Emeron out of his life like a nightmare. Reed wanted that, but he had no desire to return to Bradenmain, so he decided to work in Forfield for a while to later reach the southern port in Telin.

  ***

  Bragos left an unpleasant aftertaste, stirring up memories and forcing Reed to delve into himself in a way he hadn't in years. He didn't hope that Meredith still lived near the boarding house, yet against all common sense, he sought out a familiar face in the crowd. Reed doubted he would recognize her as she would have changed significantly and grown up by now. He doubted it, yet he tried to find her features in random women, albeit unsuccessfully.

  That evening, Reed finished a contract and trudged through the streets of Bragos, hoping to quickly collapse and lose himself in sleep. Fatigue caused irritation, and the blood on his armor, purchased in Antari, inspired no optimism. Reed tried to keep to the shadows so passersby would not panic.

  Only upon reaching the outskirts of the city he rejoiced. A well loomed ahead. He hastily washed his hands, wiped away the blood, and sat on the grass. He thought of a good drink to sleep soundly until morning. Perhaps he would be lucky enough to rent a room, even at double price, although in Forfield, such problems usually didn't exist outside of relatively wealthy districts. Smiling dreamily, Reed thought of a bed and a carefree, drunken sleep.

  The nearest tavern was far from the worst place, but it didn't claim the title of being even passable. The owner gave Reed a cold look right from the doorstep but said nothing. Reed only bared his teeth, glad for the presence of his hood. Who knew what the current moods in Forfield were regarding elves.

  When the drink was brought, the urge for drinking vanished, and now Reed looked sadly at the mug where a liquor of questionable quality splashed. It wasn't that he cared about the quality, but the desire to drink swill just for the sake of drinking did not return, so he managed only two mugs over the night, and even then, not all at once. The swill was strong. Not much was needed for his head to spin.

  Reed sat in the tavern almost until dawn. He caught random glances and nothing more. No trouble seemed to be brewing, so Reed, exhausted by his failed attempts to get drunk, gloomily placed a couple of coins on the table and headed for the exit. Right in the doorway, he collided with a very young lad who scanned Reed and squinted as if he recognized an old acquaintance, even opening his mouth to say something. Expecting a torrent of abuse, Reed disgustedly pushed the boy aside and walked out.

  The predawn twilight instilled a sense of peace, and after the stuffy tavern, it even brought a certain freshness to his mind. Sighing, Reed thought that he should buy a horse again, or perhaps steal one, just like last time. The latter was more likely, especially since fate had decided to indulge him once more.

  A small stable stood near the tavern. And who would catch him? With a sly smile, Reed went toward the animals, inspecting them. It wasn't as if there was anything particularly worth stealing, but still, it was better than trudging on his own two feet to Telin, and there was no telling when he would be able to buy a horse. It was unlikely someone would want to sell him anything decent even in Forfield. In another situation, Reed might have thought that he simply hadn't even looked, but now, after two mugs of tsipur, he didn't feel he was doing anything wrong. Definitely, of everything he had done, stealing could be classified as a childish prank.

  His smile widened as the reins slipped between his fingers and he realized he wouldn't have to walk south. He led the horse out of the stable and was about to leave when he heard a voice behind him, very young, not even a man's yet.

  "You might have asked first, thief."

  Turning around, Reed bared his teeth again. "What's it to you?"

  "The horse is mine."

  "Ooh, what a pity," Reed crooned. "Well, take it back then."

  Striking an impudent expression, he slightly pushed back the edges of his cloak, revealing heavy blades. The boy flinched for a moment and then raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture.

  "I don't want to fight, but I would like to get home."

  "Where’s that?" Reed inquired, surprising even himself.

  "The capital."

  "And what were you doing here?"

  "I'm looking for someone."

  Reed thought for a moment. He had never had a weakness for stealing, but he wasn't prone to altruism either, so after a brief reflection, he suggested, "What if we make a deal?"

  "Go on then," the lad waved indifferently. "Surprise me."

  "If I find whoever you need, you give me the horse."

  "What makes you think you can?"

  "It is what I do," Reed replied with a theatrical bow.

  "So, do you only look for people or..."

  "Not only." A chuckle escaped his lips, but Reed quickly composed himself. "So? In any case, you can try taking it by force. Or we can make a deal."

  "Take off your hood," the boy suddenly demanded. Throughout their conversation, he had been studying Reed intently, as if trying to find something in his appearance that Reed hadn't noticed himself. Now, the lad was examining his face with such bold scrutiny that it was becoming irritating.

  "Maybe I should take off my pants too?" Reed flared up, resting his hand on the belt holding his blades.

  "I think I have already found the one I was looking for."

  "I suspect not."

  "Because you are not a human?" A smile slid across the face of the boy, who remained far too calm and confident in his words.

  Deciding to play along, Reed gave a saccharine smile in return, though it looked more like a grimace. "Well done, kid," he hissed. "Have a cookie."

  With those words, Reed leaped onto the horse, but before he could pull away, his persistent companion grabbed the reins, holding him in place.

  "I know who you are," he said, barely audible.

  Reed leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice to a threatening growl. "Surprise me."

  "You are an elf."

  "Oh, Great One, what incredible insight," Reed mocked, throwing back his hood. The boy responded with a smug, self-satisfied look.

  "My master wants to offer you a job," the boy suddenly muttered.

  "And how did you realize I was the one he needed?"

  "You are the only elf in Bragos." He shrugged. "The master knows you are here, and you have already worked for him."

  For a while, Reed pondered. Sifting through everyone he had worked for was a thankless task, as he remembered only a few faces and even fewer names. This was especially true for work from ten years ago.

  "And how long ago did I work for your master?" he asked, not so much to remember as to test him.

  "How should I know?" the boy snapped. "I only started my service last year."

  "So, what does your fat cat want from me?"

  "The work is... mmm... a bit difficult, but you will be paid."

  "Spit it out already," Reed urged impatiently, rolling his eyes.

  "You surely know about the hunt..."

  "Suppose so."

  "The master suggests you participate. He would feel more secure, and the money would come in handy." The lad smiled strangely, as if offering the deal of the century. "What do you say?"

  "You know what... what was your name?"

  "Hans."

  "Right, yes, Hans. Go to hell and take your master with you. You will both fit in there."

  An expression of extreme disgust and contempt appeared on Reed’s face. He kicked Hans’s hand, forcing him to release the reins.

  "If you change your mind, catch up with the hunt here." Hans slipped a piece of paper into Reed’s bag and stepped back. "Think about it, long-ears. There won't be another offer like this."

  "I told you where to go, brat. Get lost before I rip your nose off."

  Spurring the horse, Reed gave Hans a final withering look and rode away. The boy was apparently not too upset by the loss of the animal, for he watched Reed leave with the smile of a winner. Only when his horse had disappeared into the maze of Bragos’s dark streets he jumped onto another one and ride in the opposite direction.