Edward blinked as the massive wooden doors swung open, expecting a servant or perhaps the Chief himself.
Instead, standing before him was a girl. She was close to his age, perhaps a few years older, she carried herself with an elegance that immediately made him aware of the disparity between her and the ragged villagers around them.
Her long peach-colored hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, shimmering faintly even under the dim light of the night. Her eyes were black, sharp, and strangely intense, making Edward feel like she could see straight through him. She wore a floral dress that looked far too expensive for any villager to own—a delicate fabric patterned with blossoms, each stitched detail betraying the wealth and refinement behind it.
Edward swallowed, taken aback for a moment. He had expected the Chief, or one of the residence's attendants. But this… this person could not be either.
"I'm here to speak to the Chief," he said after a pause, his voice cautious.
The girl's gaze dropped slightly to his ragged clothing, a subtle flicker of distaste brushing her features.
"In the middle of the night?" she asked, her tone calm but tinged with incredulity.
"It's urgent," Edward pressed.
She lifted her eyes again, as if weighing him, before her lips quirked in an almost dismissive smile. "I'm sure it can wait. Why don't—"
Before she could finish, a deep voice boomed from inside the residence.
"Edward!"
Both of them turned.
The Chief emerged from behind, his imposing figure filling the doorway. His eyes narrowed as they landed on Edward.
The girl's black eyes flickered in surprise, noting the ease with which the Chief addressed him by first name. For a brief moment, she simply stood there, and then, without another word, she turned on her heel and exited the residence, the soft rustle of her dress fading down the hall.
Edward exhaled slightly, relieved at the Chief's arrival. He had no time to consider who she was—her sudden appearance was a distraction he could not afford.
"Come in, Edward. What can I—" the Chief began, his tone questioning yet patient.
"I found the murderer," Edward cut him off, his voice steady and unwavering.
The Chief paused mid-step, eyes narrowing as he studied Edward's serious expression.
"He's dead," Edward added calmly.
The Chief's brow lifted. "Dead?"
Edward nodded.
"He died fighting two soldiers at once." His voice did not waver, but the weight of his words seemed to hang in the air.
A hint of surprise flicked across the Chief's face, followed by a shadow of unease.
"Why was I not informed of any of this?" he murmured, more to himself than Edward.
"The soldiers fighting him have also died. All three of them are dead," Edward replied, his tone flat and precise. No embellishment, no unnecessary detail—just the simple truth.
The Chief's expression darkened at the news. A pause followed, heavy and deliberate, before he finally spoke. "Show me."
Without a word, Edward led the Chief through the village, both of them moving in silence. The streets were quiet, disturbingly so. Edward's boots pressed softly against the muddy ground, the night air cool against his skin.
When they arrived at the site of the battle, an eerie quiet settled around them.
Edward watched as the Chief moved carefully, eyes sweeping over the ground, studying the scattered bodies, the marks in the mud, the remnants of the struggle. Time seemed to slow as the Chief assessed the scene with an acute and practised precision.
After several minutes, he finally broke the silence.
"Tell me what happened," he said, his voice was even and controlled, but it also carried an edge of authority that made Edward straighten instinctively.
Edward took a deep breath before speaking.
"I saw a suspicious man with a hammer following another person. I went to the soldiers, and we followed him, but he diverted into the woods and trapped us there."
The Chief nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on the warhammer lying a few feet away, stained with blood. "I see."
"You've done well," the Chief continued after a pause, his voice softer, almost approving.
"Today is a tragedy. Losing two soldiers is a heavy blow for our village, but… tomorrow, come to my residence. I will reward you for your contribution."
Edward nodded, though his mind buzzed with a mix of relief and confusion.
"You may take your leave. I will handle things here on my own." Chief added.
With that, Edward turned, leaving the battlefield behind.
Yet even as he moved, his thoughts were far from the Chief's praise or the promise of reward. A far more pressing question gnawed at him.
How had the soldiers known to appear in the woods at precisely the right moment?
He replayed the scene in his mind—the sudden arrival, the uncanny timing. He was sure no one had followed him. No one could have anticipated his exact path. And yet, they had.
How?
The question had no answer. And a subtle, sinking dread began to coil in his chest. He felt like the answer, whatever it was, would not be one he would like.
Shaking his thoughts from that dark corner of his mind, Edward continued walking through the village. The night air smelled faintly of smoke and mud, the echoes of the battlefield fading behind him. His body felt unusually light, each step fluid, unstrained—his muscles reacting to the recent rank increase in a way that felt instinctive.
Finally, he reached the inn, a modest building tucked away near the village square. He pushed open the creaking door, the smell of warm firewood and stale ale greeting him. Inside, the common room was empty save for a few late-night patrons, heads bowed in sleep or quiet conversation.
Edward made his way up the narrow stairwell, each step echoing faintly against the wooden planks.
Soon enough, he entered his room.
He let out a deep sigh, the tension in his shoulders finally beginning to ease.
Collapsing onto the shabby bed, Edward stared at the ceiling. Moonlight filtered in through the small window, casting faint patterns across the floor. He closed his eyes, letting the events of the night wash over him.
Within moments, exhaustion took over, and he sank into a deep slumber.