Luna steps into the room, her companion following close behind. Their cloaks removed, I take a careful look at the armed individuals approaching me.

  Luna is clad in the same fitted leather I saw at the bathhouse, dark brown with reinforced stitching along the seams. The supple material clings to her form, designed for both agility and light protection. A shortsword rests at her left hip, its hilt wrapped in black leather, while a slender silver rod hangs from a loop on her right side.

  Her companion is a stark contrast, dressed in well-maintained half-plate over a layer of chainmail, the polished steel catching the dim light. His armor is practical yet ornate, the edges subtly engraved with foreign script. At his belt, two swords rest on each side: a long, curved scimitar with a decorated golden hilt and a more plain, worn straight sword with an unusually small, minimalist handguard.

  "You've recovered well, haven't you? And with minimal corruption too. Your people's priests truly work wonders."

  I recognize the voice, the slight accent, the sharp, slanted eyes. He catches me staring and grins broadly, his eyes closing. He seems nice enough…

  Luna steps up to my bedside. "Looter. You’ve seen better days. How are the wounds?" To my surprise, her tone lacks the usual bite. Her words are hardly kind, but for once she doesn’t seem irritated to just be talking to me.

  I grimace, touching the wound, before making a half-hearted joke. "I feel like I just got stabbed."

  Her companion barks out a laugh. "Hah! In good spirits, aren't you? A little suffering fortifies the soul, don't you think?"

  I grimace again, feeling a twinge of pain. "If you say so. Though next time, I could do without..." I trail off, remembering the horrors of that day. The fear, the pain… the magic. It’s almost too much to bear.

  Evidence I suppose, that I’m not as empty as Zaenith hoped.

  Then again…. the feelings have already begun to fade, melting into the back of my mind.

  Remembering myself, I stop and turn to face Luna and the eastern man, before bowing my head low. "Thank you both, for your help. I'm in your debt."

  Luna nods curtly, but her companion raises an eyebrow. "Well now... manners, from one of your countrymen Luna? I didn’t think them capable. You could learn a thing or two" Luna rolls her eyes, ignoring the statement.

  I turn my gaze to her companion. "And you? I appreciate your help, but who exactly are you?"

  He doesn’t smile, but his head tilts slightly. "Ren," he answers simply. "Among your people, some call me the Frostblade."

  He rests his hand on the more worn-looking straight sword at his hip, his fingers idly tracing the hilt. "But Ren is enough for you and a pleasure it is, to make your acquaintance."

  As I suspected, he's from the east. But given how slight his accent is and how articulate his words are, I'm guessing he's been here a long time.

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  "I'm Seven. Good to meet you, and again I appreciate the help..." I pause, considering my words, before finally asking the question I've been waiting for. "But I have to ask... why exactly where you there? And what the fuck was that thing that attacked me? Was it really a demon?"

  Luna and Ren exchange glances. Father Alric remains at the back, his eyes closed, making no move to leave. Finally, Luna speaks. "Yes, that was a demon."

  The confirmation sends a chill down my spine. An actual demon? I had assumed of course, but hearing it stated so plainly....

  Luna continues "As for why we came. We, that is Ren and I, are investigating their presence. We heard strange rumors about the house in the woods and so... went to see for ourselves."

  Investigating demons? Who exactly are these two?

  I voice my questions, trying to steady my thoughts. "Why are you investigating demons? Who are you, really?"

  Luna meets my gaze, "That’s not your concern," she says, her voice firm.

  Ren speaks more plainly. "We belong to an order sworn to hunt such creatures. A covenant."

  Covenant.

  The word strikes a chord with me, I'm not sure why. It seems a strange way to refer to a group, at the least.

  Ren continues, his sharp eyes locked onto mine. "Speaking of... how exactly did you survive? What happened? Why were you there in the first place?"

  I hesitate, unsure how much I should reveal. But in the end, I decide to hold nothing back. They saved my life after all... and more importantly, maybe if I share what I know, they'll shed more light on what I'm facing... and whether I'll have to face it again.

  They listen intently as I recount everything, from the my conversation with Vael in his human form, to my fight with him, to Lucien's severed head, to Vael's transformation and my use of the magic scroll... they take in every word with rapt attention, as I retell the harrowing events.

  When I finally finish, an uneasy silence settles over the room. Luna’s brows furrow, her fingers drumming absently against her sword hilt. Ren, normally quick to smile, looks uncharacteristically serious. Even Father Alric, standing apart, frowns deeply, his fingers interlaced in contemplation. Though he seems to be keeping himself out of our conversation, I'm sure now he absorbed every word.

  "Lucien's head, you say?" Luna asks, her brows knitting together.

  I nod emphatically. "No doubt about it. It was his."

  Luna lets out a deep breath, shaking her head. "I purchased supplies from that festering leech just yesterday."

  I frown. "Yeah… and he was the one who had me deliver that chest."

  Luna and Ren look to each other before their hands tighten around their weapons. A tense silence follows before Ren finally speaks. "Then perhaps we should pay him another visit."

  As they turn to leave, urgency grips me. "Wait," I call out. "I still need answers. Why did Vael call me kindred? What did he want from me? And.... am I still in danger?"

  They stop. Luna's eyes flash to Ren, who nods once before striding out of the room. Luna remains, turning back to me. "I have no answers for you. Maybe we will learn something in our confrontation with Lucien. For now, just rest." In an uncharacteristic display of kindness, she rests her slender hand on my shoulder, giving me a nod…. before turning and following Ren out the door.

  Alric watches the door close behind Luna, his pale fingers steepling before him. "Sin is a weight that settles upon the soul, whether thou seest it or not," he muses, his voice smooth yet laced with something unsettling. "Often times, those who walk in darkness do so unknowingly, until they are swallowed whole."

  His gaze settles on me, cold and discerning. "Consider well the company thou keepest, young Seven. For not all who fight demons are free from their taint."

  Confused by his words, I press him to explain. "What do you mean? Are you talking about Luna? Ren? Both of them?"

  Alric only smiles faintly, his gaze unreadable. "Interpret as thou wilt."

  Without another word, he turns away, closing the door behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I sit in silence for a moment, his cryptic warning gnawing at me. But the more I dwell on it, the more I realize I can’t just sit here.

  Grunting through the pain, I push myself up, reaching for my belongings. I fasten my cloak, tie my weapons to my belt, each movement careful to avoid aggravating my still-healing wounds.

  If they're confronting Lucien, I need to be there.

  I need answers.