I finally make it back to the house, my body heavy with exhaustion. The air inside is cold, the hearth dark, and Zaenith is nowhere to be found. I don’t bother waiting for her. My limbs ache as I kneel before the fireplace, fumbling to light a fire. The kindling catches after a few strikes, and soon a faint warmth begins to fill the room.

  I collapse onto the floor, curling up as close to the fire as I can without burning myself. My mind is restless, recalling the events of the day.

  The brigands, killing them...

  There's nothing to feel guilty over, killing them was the obvious course of action. I have to preserve my own life over everything else, that's natural.

  Even so, the feeling of my knife meeting their flesh... the shock in their eyes as they realized what I had done...

  It's an.... unusual feeling.

  My thoughts drift further back, to Joss. What I did to him with the venom....

  I can still see his face, even now. His terror, his agony as he convulsed on the ground, poison spreading through his body.

  A terrible way to go...

  I wonder, could I have spared him? Tried to knock him out like I did Harwin?

  I’m certain I could beat him in a fight, but both at the same time? Without a weapon? That’s an unreasonable expectation. I warned them not to try and stop me. I told them.

  They didn’t listen.

  .....I’m glad Emily fled town before finding out what I did. She and Joss were never close but.... still. I’m certain all the villagers there are feeling pretty vindicated about my status as sorcerer after what I did to him.

  Even so, I lost little sleep on the carriage ride afterwards.... I wonder, did I feel no regret? For his killing? Or at least for killing him so cruelly?

  I don’t know.

  Regret certainly didn’t stop me from looting him. I took his knife and the few coins he had in his pocket. Maybe I should have given them to his father but... it’s not like I got the chance.

  I shake my head, forcing the morbid thoughts aside. Either way, these brigands were nothing like him. They were predators, taking lives for profit. They deserved what they got, my actions were justified.

  An easy thing to say.

  And also the undeniable truth.

  I recall the priests words "And remember, should thou require confession, I would gladly ease thy burden of sin." I'm not really a godly man, but maybe an unbiased perspective would do me some good....

  I shake off the thought, closing my eyes. I can think about it tomorrow, it's been a hard day, I deserve some sleep.

  The morning light streaks across my face, stirring me from my slumber. I turn to the window and see a clear day, the sun high in the sky with few clouds obscuring it, a nice change in weather. Judging by its position, it’s almost noon. I must have slept for quite some time, unusual of me. And my dreams, or rather my nightmares, were strangely absent...

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  Ever since leaving Mistvale, my village, my nights have been plagued by relentless, bloody dreams of battles, wars, and terrifying monsters. The exception being that night in the gaolhouse... and also last night, it’s quite the relaxing feeling.

  The fleeting peace sours slightly as I sit up, the ache of yesterday’s wounds flaring in my memory. Still, I refuse to let it drag me down and compared to yesterday they feel much better. So, with that positive outlook, I get up and prepare to face the day ahead.

  I glance toward Zaenith's room, only to find it still empty. I’m not familiar enough with her habits to know if this is unusual or not. Perhaps she sleeps in her store instead, as a child our house was her apothecary. Either way, I’ll find out soon enough. Grabbing the sack of herbs I gathered for her yesterday and the club I took from that brigand, I tie both of them to my belt and step outside onto the streets of Ravencroft.

  Zaenith's shop is just a few steps away, close enough that I can already see its closed doors. Honestly, I’m looking forward to seeing her. Picking herbs might not be the most glorious task, but it’s honest work, and I did it well.

  "Hello there, could you spare me a moment?" I turn to see a young woman.

  Woman?

  A female?

  Why would a female woman willingly approach someone like me...?

  She’s fairly ordinary looking, though her nervous smile and freckled cheeks lend her an endearing charm. Her face is framed by wavy brown hair, and she wears a simple dress, thick and layered for the weather. She’s a little plump compared to Luna or Emily, but the additional curves aren’t unappealing.

  "H-Hello..." she stutters nervously, her voice barely audible as I tower over her. "Are you, by chance, Seven?"

  I blink, surprised. It’s not often a stranger knows my name before I give it.

  Let alone a female woman.

  "Yes. How do you know who I am?"

  She fidgets, her hands twisting the fabric of her dress. "Father said you were tall and that you knew good Zaenith. He's the innkeeper at Raven's Rest, near the East Gate."

  The innkeeper? Strange. I’ve never entered the place, though I do recall passing it. "One of the guardsmen told him that you... k-killed two brigands! He said you’re welcome to come fer food and drink, as his guest."

  A free meal, huh? "A... kind offer," I say, inclining my head slightly. "I’ll surely think about it."

  She blushes at my response, her cheeks reddening as I smile. "Thank you, good sir. U-um, goodbye!" she stammers before turning abruptly and scurrying away, leaving me no time to bid her farewell in return.

  "Hmm... people sure do despise brigands in this town," I ponder aloud.

  "And why wouldn't they?" A voice cuts through my thoughts, a familiar one. I turn to see a towering man, nearly eight feet tall, even I stand almost a head shorter than he does.

  "Two... what are you doing here?" I ask, stepping back as the imposing figure strides closer, keeping a watch of his tattooed hands.

  "Just checking in on my little brother. Is there something wrong with that?" he says, stepping closer as I instinctively retreat. "I never thought I'd find you living with Mother. Have the two of you made up at last?" His red eyes scan me from head to toe, and he smirks, clearly entertained by the sight.

  "I didn’t think I’d find you here either..... Does Zaenith know?" I ask, my hand reaching into my cloak. He chuckles, circling me casually, not even looking in my direction.

  "No. And I'd rather you didn't tell her, if it's all the same to you. I've come on my own business." I don't meet his gaze, my eyes instead drawn to the glimmer of armor I see beneath his cloak, along with a dangerous looking sword. "Fine. I don't care. I'm just here to learn alchemy."

  Two takes a sudden step toward me, covering nearly ten feet in an instant. I stumble backward, snatching the knife from my belt. "Alchemy? And why would you want to learn that, little looter? What purpose could you possibly have for learning Mother's vile craft?" I retreat cautiously, my knife raised to keep him at arm's length.

  "That's my business. Not yours." Two doesn’t respond immediately. His gaze flickers between my knife and my face, a smirk spreading across his lips. "...Heh, have it your way then. Don’t tell Mother I’m here, and I won’t press you." He bends low, until his face is level with my blade "I wouldn't want to experience the edge of this knife of yours. I heard it's quite the killer." I don't respond, and he doesn't wait for me to, turning away. "I’ll visit you again before I leave, little brother. Until then."

  A burst of snow erupts from the ground as his next step propels him forward with impossible speed. He’s gone before I can even track which direction he went. I exhale sharply, relief flooding through me.

  He's gone.