Renji ran faster and faster across the wet stone streets. He was breathing hard, and every corner he turned made it feel like the inn was getting farther instead of closer. The city bells rang, already announcing noon, and that tightened his stomach more than hunger ever could.
— "I can't be late, I have no excuse," he muttered through clenched teeth, while the elf leaned back in his pocket and giggled as if watching a show.
An ox cart cut across his path, and Renji leapt over a pile of barrels so he wouldn't have to stop. The market vendors stared at him in confusion, and some even shouted after him. He didn't care. All he could picture in his mind was the innkeeper, hands on hips and her piercing gaze.
When he reached the front of the inn, he braced his hands on his knees and drew in a deep breath. He had no time to rest. He pushed the door open, and the noise from inside hit him. Guests were laughing and eating, but from behind the counter, the innkeeper spotted him immediately.
— "So you finally decided to show up. Lodging isn't free, and customers don't eat air. If you've got so much energy to run through the streets, then use it here."
Renji swallowed hard and rushed over.
— "I'm sorry! I'm late, but I'll make it up. Just tell me what to do."
The innkeeper raised her eyebrows, then nodded toward the kitchen.
— "Good. We've got dirty tables, hungry customers, and dishes piled up like it's a wedding. If you want to prove you deserve to stay here, then get moving."
Renji nodded firmly and headed straight to the kitchen. The elf hid away again, ready to watch the show. At that moment, Renji knew the day had only just begun.
Renji shoved the kitchen door open, still panting, his coat dusted with coal powder. Hot steam and the smell of stew hit him immediately. The kitchen helpers turned their heads toward him, but he rushed to the table where the vegetables waited to be chopped.
Tiberku was already there, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing dishes. When he saw Renji, he lifted his brows.
— "So you finally showed up."
Renji quickly sat down, grabbed a knife and an onion, but his voice betrayed his exhaustion.
— "I'm sorry I was late… but I couldn't leave the blacksmith before finishing what I started."
Tiberku stared at him for a moment, then set a dish on the shelf.
— "You were gone all night. Do you know what that means?"
Renji stayed quiet and kept slicing slowly, his eyes red and his eyelids heavy. The elf, hidden in his pocket, poked him playfully, almost laughing at the situation.
Tiberku continued in a low, firm voice:
— "If you're late again, we won't have a place to sleep. The inn doesn't keep us out of kindness. The work here pays for the room, not your dreams."
Renji tightened his grip on the knife and looked up at him.
— "I know… and it won't happen again. I need both. The forge and the inn."
Tiberku said nothing more. He turned back to the steaming water in the barrel and resumed scrubbing. Renji sighed and kept chopping onions, trying to ignore the sting in his eyes, this time not just from the smell.
Renji chopped the vegetables quickly, but his hands trembled with fatigue. Tiberku watched him for a while in silence, then set a dish aside and spoke briefly:
— "Renji, this morning we had an unusual customer."
Renji raised his head, curious.
— "What do you mean unusual?"
Tiberku leaned in slightly, so the others wouldn't hear.
— "He came into the inn very early. He didn't eat, didn't drink. He just sat down, called me over, and started asking questions. About you. If you're new here, if you work at the inn, where you stay."
The elf peeked out of Renji's pocket and stared at Tiberku, as if trying to read the truth in his eyes. Renji clenched his teeth.
— "And what did you tell him?"
— "Only what I had to. Nothing that would lead straight to you. But the way he spoke, the way he looked at me… he wasn't an ordinary customer. I believe he was sent by Eris."
Renji blinked several times, surprised.
— "By Eris? But why would he ask about me?"
Tiberku nodded seriously.
— "Maybe she wants to know if you've made it here. If that's true, it's a good sign. It means the road to her is starting to open."
Renji arranged the vegetables into bowls, but his eyes kept darting to the kitchen door, as if he expected someone to appear. Tiberku watched him closely for a few seconds, then leaned in and spoke calmly:
— "When we finish here, we should go out into the city. Maybe that man from this morning is still wandering around, and we can learn something from him."
Renji nodded, but at that moment, a small disaster struck the kitchen. The youngest helper, a girl about fourteen, dropped a basket of eggs right beside Renji's table. The eggs rolled across the floor, splashing water and flour everywhere. Renji flinched and, trying to catch one, knocked over a bowl of vegetables with his hand, spilling some of his contents.
Tiberku burst into brief laughter, then quickly grew serious again.
— "It's clear we need to hurry if we want to finish everything. We don't want the innkeeper to scold us."
Renji sighed and continued cleaning and arranging everything, while the elf shook off eggs and flour, laughing silently. Despite the little mishaps, things began to flow better, and the makeshift kitchen team started adjusting to the inn's chaotic rhythm.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky and the number of customers dwindled, Tiberku and Renji cleaned their stations, washed their hands, and prepared to leave. Renji threw his coat over his shoulders and headed for the exit door.
— "Let's see what's happening in the city," said Tiberku, glancing at the shadowed streets. "Maybe that man is somewhere in the center, and we can learn more about reaching Eris."
Renji smiled, though the day's fatigue weighed on every muscle. Together, the two left the inn and walked toward the city center, the elf tucked in Renji's pocket.
They walked through the narrow, crowded streets of the city center. Lanterns slowly lit the wet stones, and hurried people slipped through the stalls of fruit and spices. From one corner of the square, Renji spotted a group of foreign soldiers, clad in massive armor with strange emblems on their chests. His eyes widened immediately.
— "Imperials… I think they're imperials," he whispered, staring at the disciplined formation of troops.
Tiberku pressed his hand over his mouth.
— "Don't say that out loud. In the Tarhal kingdom, the rank of 'imperial' doesn't exist. But what you see is something similar, an elite force, highly disciplined and feared."
Renji swallowed hard, feeling a knot in his stomach. The group of soldiers marched slowly, their gazes slicing through the crowd unnoticed by the others. But what made Renji's heart skip was something else: one man was bound in chains, and a soldier held the chain, staring coldly.
— "Wait…" murmured Renji in a whisper, "the one holding the chain… his hand… something's wrong with it."
Tiberku followed his gaze. The soldier's hand didn't look human. It was covered in black skin with a strange sheen, as if it had been corrupted or transformed.
— "Is he a demon?" Renji asked quietly, almost whispering. "Or… what's wrong with him?"
Tiberku looked at him for a few seconds, his face serious, then drew a deep breath.
— "I can't say for sure… But he's not an ordinary man. Something about him is corrupted, or something else. We have to be cautious. Don't go near him."
Renji clenched his fists, tension tightening his arms. It was the first time he had come face to face with something so unknown, and every detail of that soldier, from his precise movements to the appearance of his corrupted hand, filled him with an almost paralyzing unease.
Renji and Tiberku remained hidden at the corner of the square, watching the soldiers advance in silence. The chained man began to scream, his voice tearing through the quiet of the evening:
— "You're lying! You're all lying! The border towns… the villages… everything is falling apart! Monsters are coming out of portals, people are turning into beasts! You can't stay silent about this!"
Renji felt his blood freeze. It wasn't the news itself, but the raw fury and pure despair erupting from the man. His eyes tracked every movement of the soldiers, every rattling chain, every threatening step of those escorting him.
Tiberku stayed still at his side, staring at Renji in shock. Neither of them knew what to say or how to react. The air in the square grew thick with tension, every shout and gesture making everything seem more real and more threatening.
The man kept shouting, his voice shaking the stones:
— "They're lying! Everything is collapsing! Can't you see what's coming?!"
In one swift motion, a soldier raised the hilt of his sword and struck the man's head. The scream stopped instantly. The man's body collapsed in chains, trembling slightly.
The square erupted in confused murmurs. People glanced at each other, whispering, shifting nervously at what had just happened. Stalls and goods were left unattended for a moment, every eye fixed on the soldiers and the fallen prisoner.
Renji and Tiberku stood silently, their hearts pounding wildly. Their eyes tracked every detail, the soldiers' movements, the trembling chains, the crowd's tension. It was a moment that allowed no mistakes, no reckless moves.
Tiberku tugged lightly at Renji's arm and murmured:
— "Stay close and stay sharp. Everything happening here could turn against us at any moment."
The elf, peeking out from Renji's pocket, whispered gravely:
— "Renji… something's wrong here. We need to return to the inn. Now."
Renji felt a cold shiver and turned to Tiberku:
— "The elf says he senses something bad… that we should leave immediately."
Tiberku nodded slowly, his eyes still fixed on the square:
— "Then we're leaving. We don't belong in the middle of this chaos."
Without another word, they slipped through the crowd, their steps careful, tension following them like a shadow. The elf clung to Renji's shoulder, a living warning: this was no time to underestimate what was happening.
Renji and Tiberku made their way through the dispersing crowd, feeling every glance and every shift around them as a looming threat. The air was heavy, and their hearts beat in rhythm with their hurried steps. Every second seemed weighted, the thought of escalation driving them to quicken their pace toward the inn without looking back.
They reached the inn without incident, but adrenaline from the square still pulsed in their veins. The door closed behind them, and they climbed the stairs to their simple room. Renji tossed his coat lightly onto the bed, breathing deeply, while Tiberku sat on the edge of the other bed, still tense.
Renji looked at the elf and asked:
— "What did you feel out there? What made you react like that?"
The elf raised his eyes:
— "I felt the same unease I felt when you lost control. Something bad is there, something that can't be ignored."
Tiberku nodded slowly, staring into space:
— "Then we must be cautious. We can't leave anything to chance."
Renji sat down on his bed, the day's tension mixing with worry, aware that the elf's warning was no accident. Tiberku leaned toward Renji's bed and noticed a piece of paper sticking out from under the pillow. Lifting it, he asked bluntly:
— "Did you put this here?"
Renji turned in surprise and shrugged.
— "No… I didn't put it there."
Tiberku frowned, suspicion flickering in his eyes. He unfolded the paper carefully. On the page was an address and a time, with no explanation.
— "Hmm… someone wants us to meet them there," Tiberku murmured, eyes scanning the page, trying to grasp the sender's intent.
Renji studied the note, his eyes fixed on every letter. A faint chill ran through him, unease he couldn't shake. Who had sent it, and what did they want? Questions piled up in his mind, and the silence of the room made the tension heavier.
Renji placed the note on the table and looked at Tiberku.
— "Who do you think left this?"
— "I don't know who left it. It says we're to meet at the north fountain, eight o'clock tomorrow evening."
Renji nodded, uneasy.
— "We'd better prepare. We don't want surprises."
— "Exactly," Tiberku replied. "We need to gear up and leave with enough time."
The elf peeked up from Renji's pocket and whispered:
— "Your stomach is growling. You two should eat."
Renji chuckled awkwardly, while Tiberku raised an eyebrow at the elf.
— "You're right," Tiberku said. "We won't think clearly if our stomachs are rumbling."
Renji and Tiberku got ready to go downstairs, but the elf piped up from Renji's pocket:
— "Wait! I want to eat too. Bring me something if you can."
Renji smiled softly.
— "Alright, but stay here until we get back."
Renji and Tiberku went down to the kitchen, and as the warm smell of stews and fresh bread hit them, Renji sighed in relief.
— "Ah, this is exactly what I needed."
Tiberku smiled and grabbed a piece of bread.
— "I don't know how I manage to work all day without eating first. I feel much better now."
Renji bit into some vegetables and sighed contentedly.
— "Me too… I can feel the fatigue melting away little by little."
The two ate slowly, savoring every bite, trading glances and short laughs whenever one made a comment about the food. The kitchen's atmosphere cheered them up, making them forget the city's tension for a few minutes.
After they finished, Renji carefully took a pie for the elf, while Tiberku grabbed one for himself, and they headed back upstairs.
The elf was waiting, bouncing slightly when he saw them.
— "You brought me some too?" he whispered excitedly.
Renji placed the pie in front of him and watched as he began eating, chuckling at the elf's giggles after the first sweet bite.
Tiberku sat on the bed, relaxed, and said:
— "Well, now that we've all eaten, it's time to rest."
Renji nodded, arranged his blanket, and lay down. The elf, finishing his pie, curled up near the pillows, giggling softly, content.
The calm silence of the room wrapped around the three of them, and sleep came quickly, preparing them for the day ahead.