Here I am, skipping toward this village. As agreed, my team stays back.
Now that I think about it, why did I decide to put myself forward? A lazy guy like me should probably be content staying in the background.
Ah yes, it's because of that bitter Kathleen and that damn Association. By the way, I find it outrageous that a Magister should be forced to get their hands dirty.
How will my men see me now? A lapdog at the Association's beck and call?
Anyway, let's get this over with quickly so I can go rest.
When I entered the village, the first thing I noticed was the quiet. A little too quiet for my taste. You know, the kind of silence where it feels like everyone's hiding behind their curtains, secretly watching you?
The houses were wooden, with straw roofs and half-closed shutters. Not exactly reassuring, I must say. A little further, I spotted a small square with a fountain in the middle, but the water wasn't even flowing. Just an old basin full of algae and dead leaves.
As I trudged through the streets, I could smell wet grass mixed with earth—but not that fresh-earth smell you get in fields after rain. No, this smelled like compacted, cold soil—the kind you trample and then abandon.
Not a soul. Not even a dog barking somewhere to remind you life exists. The few people I did cross didn't even glance at me. Old ladies in aprons, a guy dragging a cart full of… who knows, maybe potatoes.
Closed-off, tired faces, like nobody here wanted to say hello. Honestly, that suited me just fine.
I glanced around, trying to see if there was a bench where I could sit for a while. Because, yes, all this calm was almost too much action for me.
Just as I was beginning to wonder if I'd end up sitting on the ground, my eyes caught a crooked wooden sign with faded paint that seemed to say "Inn"—or something like that. The "I" was nearly gone, but I figured it was a place where I could at least rest my feet for a few minutes.
I pushed the door open, which creaked as if it hadn't been opened in centuries.
Inside, it was dark, with only a few flickering candles here and there. The smell? A mix of vegetable soup and burnt wood—not too unpleasant for a change.
I stepped forward, a little hesitant, trying not to draw too much attention. Not that I needed to hide—there were barely three people in the room, all hunched over a large wooden table, absorbed in their bowls of soup as if it were their last meal.
I spotted a chair off to the side and took my time getting there, not rushing. I wasn't eager to integrate into this depressing atmosphere. Sitting down, I waved at the innkeeper—a round man with sideburns as thick as his belly. He glanced at me like, "Another one who's just going to sit there without ordering." So I raised my hand like, Relax, I'll order, okay?
He came over with heavy steps, a towel slung over his shoulder. "What'll it be?"
I shrugged. "Whatever's… easiest to prepare."
He raised an eyebrow as if my answer slightly offended him, then walked off without a word.
I sank into my chair, staring at the ceiling. Not great, but in a village this sleepy, I shouldn't expect much anyway.
The inn was, honestly, the definition of "mundane." Dull walls, creaky wooden tables, not a single painting to brighten the place. The candles cast dancing shadows on the ceiling, but it was still a rather sleepy show.
I sighed. Couldn't they have sent someone else? Anyone else? But no, it had to be me. All this for a story involving some Vrynna, who apparently was hiding somewhere in this godforsaken village.
Truth be told, she picked a good spot. Perfect place to stay unnoticed: a village with no electricity, no noise, where even the smell of soup seems sad.
I glanced toward the door, the urge to run nearly tangible, but I had to keep up appearances.
Just as I was still eyeing the inn door, thinking about fleeing, the innkeeper returned with a steaming bowl. "Here, vegetable soup," he grunted, setting it in front of me. I barely had time to say "thanks" before he returned to the counter.
I picked up the spoon, brought it to my lips, and blew on the contents, hoping it was edible. One sip, and… well, it's not gourmet, but it's eatable. It keeps me occupied, let's say.
I looked around while sipping, observing the other patrons who hadn't lifted their heads since I entered. They all gave me the vibe of "old silent statues."
Honestly, I almost wanted to make a weird noise like "Boo!" just to see if they'd react. But better stay calm this once.
Halfway through my soup (if you could call it savoring), a low, serious voice echoed right behind me: [Master, do you actually have a plan?]
I sighed, leaning back in my chair, trying to push the intrusive question away. What, you doubt me?
[Yes.]
He doesn't even try to hide it. Charming.
To avoid looking like a crazy person talking to himself, I mentally replied to him, avoiding any sideways glances.
Number 4 is patrolling with his minions. Everything's under control.
[That's what worries me, Master. You know how unpredictable she can be…]
Before I could respond, another voice chimed in, a bit dragging, a bit mocking.
[Not very noble for a knight, doubting your master.]
[And leaving our master wandering in silence—noble, maybe?]
I rolled my eyes (well, at the inn ceiling).
Number 5 will assist Number 4. Number 2 will be reassured.
Number 5 pouts but disappears in an instant.
Just when I thought I might have a moment of peace, Number 2 nags again.
[Master, this village may seem quiet, but something's off. Have you noticed the… tense air among the villagers?]
I raise an eyebrow. Tense? Buddy, these people are calmer than a rock garden. This isn't tension, it's… deep boredom.
Number 2 shakes his head with a disdainful frown.
[That's exactly what worries me, Master. The boredom in these villagers seems… supernatural.]
I roll my eyes. Alright, Mr. Suspicion, if you want to play detective, do something useful, like observe around the fountain. That's where the village's old ladies gossip… maybe you'll find a clue, or at least an interesting story.
And off he disappears silently. Finally, some respite.
Actually, no.
Number 4 sends a mental signal: [Master, there's movement in the northern woods. Someone's trying to be discreet… but failing miserably.]
I sigh long and hard.
Number 5 will provide backup.
[Backup?! I don't need him, Master!]
I sigh. Seriously, these familiars… If I let them go on, they'd almost come to blows.
I swallow the last bland spoonful of soup and rise slowly.
Standing, I toss a few coins on the table and head for the door. A small sarcastic voice rings in my mind.
[So, Master, ready to get your hands dirty for once?]
You'd better keep your sarcasm to yourself.
Stepping outside, I feel the villagers' eyes on me.
Great, I just wanted a village where nothing happens, and now I've stepped into a nest of trouble…
Outside, I pull out the so-called "stone-phone"—a technological marvel, if you have the imagination—and call the other team members who stayed back.
Mira picks up in less than two seconds. [Magister?]
"Yeah, Warden Mira, there's movement north of the village. Take Warden Griffin and check what's going on."
[Received!]
At that moment, I hear Piper in the background: [And me? What do I do?]
I shrug, as if she could see me. "You, join me."
With that, I pretend to ignore the stares and sit at the edge of the fountain, resting an elbow on my knee, letting my gaze wander.
[An illusion spell has been cast on the villagers, Master.]
That's Number 2 reporting. I sigh.
Suddenly, a hooded figure glides in front of me.
A woman. She raises an eyebrow and examines me with a hint of mockery.
"I didn't expect the Association to find me so quickly."
I shrug with a smirk. "Believe me, I didn't expect to be here either. Looks like I'm as surprised as you are."
Her expression turns serious, as if joking isn't in her vocabulary. Her eyes pierce me, and I briefly wonder what her deal is. Then I remember why she's here, why I'm here.
Ah yes, right.
"So, you're not going to try to stop me?"
I sigh dramatically. "Really annoying… First, tell me. The northern forest, does that ring a bell?"
She laughs, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Maybe it was my hideout. But I've got plenty of hiding spots."
"And so? Are you going to let yourself be caught quietly, or what?" I fix my gaze on hers, a little annoyed by her hints.
She bursts out laughing, genuinely this time, and I roll my eyes.
But I'm serious.
"So, that's your strategy? Stall until your companions arrive?"
I sigh, hand on my face, already exhausted by this conversation. "No, none of that. The Association wants me to handle this myself."
She gives me a look full of contempt, spins around with a scornful pout, and walks a few steps away. I watch her back. But suddenly, she stops, frozen, then turns abruptly, dropping her hood.
A fairly beautiful woman, actually, a shame she's older… and in crime. Her eyes widen as she stares at me, a mix of worry and confusion.
"What did you do to me?"
I shrug and tap the edge of the fountain beside me.
"Come sit, enjoy the view with me."
She gapes at me, shocked, then raises her right hand.
"You… you…!" She extends her hand toward me.
I stare, unmoved, waiting for something to happen. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
She looks down at her hand, completely astonished, and tries again… in vain. She looks at me as if I'm a monster. Her hands tremble slightly.
Well, goodbye peace and quiet.