The four continued their journey through a dense forest, the towering trees casting long shadows as the late afternoon sun struggled to pierce the thick canopy. The air was damp and filled with the earthy scent of moss and fallen leaves. Their horses trudged along a muddy trail, hooves squelching in the wet earth. Toby, now somewhat more energetic than before, rode behind Reu, while Brea shared a horse with Havilah.
Havilah's voice broke the silence, his tone calm but with an undercurrent of urgency. "Just ahead of us, there will be a road leading to Kanter City."
Reu adjusted his grip on the reins, glancing toward him. "And from there, we'll make our way to Gastonmere."
Suddenly, Havilah spurred from the horse forward and blocked their path, his yellow eyes gleaming. "Wait! I need your help—to stop Andros and end the disappearances in Hollow Village."
Brea frowned, her brow furrowing. "I thought you hated Hollow Village?"
"I do," Havilah admitted, his voice low, "but it was my home. Hate or not, I can't ignore what's happening."
Reu scoffed. "We have no business with Hollow Village or your vendettas."
"I helped you escape from Andros," Havilah countered sharply.
"And we wouldn't have been caught in the first place if you hadn't snatched this woman!" Reu shot back, his eyes flicking toward Brea.
"Enough, both of you!" Brea snapped, her voice slicing through the tension. "This isn't helping."
Toby raised his hand with a grin that didn't quite mask his calculating gaze. "How about this—we'll help you take down Andros, if you can prove he's behind the disappearances. But after that, you join our group."
Havilah's eyes widened. "What? Absolutely not."
"Good," Reu muttered, a smirk curling his lips. "You'd only slow us down."
"Come on, Reu," Toby said, flashing a mischievous smile. "It would be awesome to have a lycan with us. Makes us unique."
"I hate to agree with Toby," Brea added reluctantly, "but he's right. We need capable fighters if we're going to survive."
Havilah blinked, caught off guard by her words. A faint blush touched his cheeks at the phrase "capable fighter." Toby noticed and smirked wider.
"That's right, Brea!" Toby teased. "Havilah is strong—he could protect you."
Brea glared at him. "Don't start, Toby!"
Havilah's lips curved into a half-smile. "Well, that's a good reason for me to stay. My Brea is too precious to leave with someone like this swordsman around." He nodded toward Reu with mock disdain. "Fine. I'll join you if we take down Andros and restore peace to Hollow Village."
Reu just scoffed again, muttering under his breath. Toby pumped his fist triumphantly. "Yes! The Vesper Knights just got stronger."
"Or weirder," Brea muttered.
"More like an additional idiot," Reu grumbled.
They continued along the muddy trail in tense silence. After a while, they reached a fork in the road. Havilah pointed ahead. "This is the road to Kanter City. Once there, we can rest and seek aid from my kind—but don't expect much. They've learned to hide from yours."
"Why so much hatred toward your kind?" Reu asked, genuine curiosity tinged with disdain.
Havilah's jaw tightened. "Perhaps because your kind fears what they can't control. Fear breeds hate."
Toby cut in cheerfully, trying to break the tension. "Let's keep moving!"
As night fell over Hollow Village, a sudden scream shattered the silence. Andros' men rushed toward the sound, boots pounding against the ground. A mother knelt in the dirt, sobbing uncontrollably. "My daughter… she was just here! I looked away for a moment, and she was gone!"
One soldier exchanged a grim look with another. "Another disappearance?"
"Maybe," the second muttered. "Search everywhere!"
The men scattered, shouting commands. The mother, tears streaming down her face, lifted her gaze toward the ancient tree at the village center—a gnarled giant looming like a sentinel. "That cursed tree… it's the blight of this village!" she cried. Whispers rippled through the onlookers like wind through dry leaves.
From a distance, Andros approached, his cloak trailing behind him like a shadow. "What happened?" he demanded coldly.
"Another disappearance, Headman Andros," one of his men reported.
Andros' eyes narrowed. "Perhaps the girl simply ran away. These are desperate times." His tone was calm, but something in his gaze flickered—a hint of unease—or calculation.
Meanwhile, the four travelers reached Kanter City, cloaks drawn tight to conceal their faces. The city bustled with life despite the heavy tension in the air. Merchants shouted over each other, hawking goods, while protesters marched through the streets, demanding justice and accusing Magistrate Naro Velk of corruption and ties to the Hollow Village disappearances. Paladins patrolled, their armor gleaming in the torchlight.
"Kanter City," Havilah murmured, scanning the restless crowd. "A place drowning in corruption and paranoia."
Reu's gaze swept across the sprawling streets, the uneven cobblestones glistening under the dim orange glow of oil lamps. The city stretched endlessly before him, a labyrinth of winding alleys and towering stone buildings leaning like silent sentinels.
The air was thick with the mingled scents of smoke, roasted meat, and something acrid he couldn't quite place. A street vendor's shout cut through the din of clattering hooves and murmuring crowds, and Reu felt the press of life on every side—chaotic, restless, almost predatory. "Quite the city," he muttered, his voice barely carrying over the noise.
Havilah walked a step ahead, his hood casting deep shadows over his face. He didn't look back as he spoke, his tone flat, almost bitter. "Most of my kind hide here," he said, his words laced with a heaviness that made Reu glance at him. "They trust no one." His eyes flicked toward the dark corners where figures lingered too long, where whispered deals and hungry stares hid behind smoke and shadow. He pulled her cloak tighter around himself, as though the city itself might devour him if he let his guard slip for even a heartbeat.
Suddenly, a sharp cry split the air. "Thief! Thief!" a vendor shouted. Paladins rushed after a shadowy figure sprinting down the street.
Murmurs erupted around them. "Probably those damn lycans again," someone hissed. "Filthy beasts. Should be driven out."
Havilah clenched his fists, his knuckles white. Brea touched his arm gently. "Let it go," she whispered.
He said nothing, only turned sharply. "Follow me."
They slipped into a narrow alley, shadows clinging to the walls like cobwebs. Beggars huddled against the stone, hands outstretched, eyes hollow. "This," Havilah murmured bitterly, "is the hidden reality of cities—those left behind."
They pressed on until they reached an iron door. Havilah knocked in a deliberate pattern. A small window slid open, revealing a pair of suspicious eyes.
"Who is it?"
Havilah muttered something in a strange tongue. The window snapped shut, and moments later, the door creaked open.
"Stay close," Havilah warned. "Few outsiders are welcome here."
Meanwhile, in Kanter's grand council hall, Magistrate Naro Velk, a rotund man draped in silk, presided over a tense meeting. "Let me be clear," Naro said, voice slick with authority. "Kanter will not meddle in Hollow Village's affairs. Their problems are their own."
One official spoke hesitantly. "But Magistrate, Hollow Village is part of Opesia. Shouldn't we send aid?"
Rickstar, a stern paladin captain, stepped forward. "Reports say the villagers are desperate. People vanish daily. If we don't act, there'll be panic and Opesia might end up like Gresia."
A former villager of Hollow rose from his seat. "I left Hollow because of this curse. It began with one disappearance a year, now every week. There is something there and . . . it's evil."
"Enough!" Naro barked. "Kanter will not intervene!"
Laughter rolled from the window ledge. Wat Tyler lounged there, bare-chested beneath a robe, a dangerous smirk on his lips.
"Wat Tyler," Rickstar said sharply. " or the world shaker from Wulfsar. What's your business here?"
"He works for me," Naro said quickly.
Wat's grin widened. "Why don't I pay Hollow a visit, Magistrate? I'm bored."
"You will do no such thing—" Naro began, but stopped as Wat's cold eyes locked on him. Sweat glistened on the Magistrate's brow.
"Do what you want," Naro muttered, voice faltering. "Just don't get caught."
Rickstar frowned, unease crawling through his gut like a cold serpent. His hand instinctively brushed the hilt of his sword, as if the steel could silence the doubts gnawing at him. "I'm coming with you," he said, his voice firm, carrying the weight of both a vow and a challenge. There was no room for argument in his tone, only the hard edge of conviction.
Wat tilted his head slightly, the torchlight catching the sharp lines of his grin. "Suit yourself, paladin," he said, the word dripping with a mocking sweetness that only sharpened his smirk. He leaned in, close enough that Rickstar could smell the faint tang of steel and smoke on him. "Just… don't get in my way."
For a heartbeat, silence hung between them—thick, tense, like a bowstring drawn to its breaking point. Rickstar's jaw tightened. Wat's eyes glinted, a predator humored by his prey's stubbornness. Somewhere beyond, the night wind howled through the crooked alleys, carrying with it the distant clang of steel and the whisper of secrets Rickstar wasn't sure he wanted to learn.
As the two men strode out, Rickstar caught a flicker of amusement in Wat's eyes—and something far darker lurking beneath.