Even as they finished the wine bottle, an annoying smile kept plastered on Marcos’ face.

  On the old man’s cheeks tears streaks from the laughter could still be seen.

  In truth the happy mood of his bottle friend had spread to Valthar too, even if it was born from such public defamation as calling him a Tree Toucher.

  And of course Valthar would never admit he had a fun night seeing the old man laugh his guts out.

  With an arm around Marco’s shoulder and a dim candle on his other hand Valthar drowsily made his way up the dark set of stairs.

  Valthar’s body was weak and tired, though his condition had been improved after forming his energy ring the change was minimal.

  His mind felt sleepy and confused, after hours of magical tests going down to drink with Marcos had not been a good idea.

  Step by step they make their way to the top floor, in the deep of night silence reigns over the Inn.

  A tap of the key and the magical door unlocks itself, the motions of mana hidden impossible to follow for Valthar.

  The door creaks as he pushes it open.

  The light runes in the ceiling dim down.

  Everything is normal…

  Everything should be normal as the two bottle friends said their goodbyes.

  However just as Valthar is about to close the door the old man’s voice echoed behind him one more time.

  But it felt different.

  “Healer.” The old thing called in a deep guttural tone. “If saving a life meant the world would change in dangerous ways... would you let her die?”

  Valthar’s heart skipped a beat, he had told nothing about his progress on life force to the old man.

  Nor had they talked about anything even close to such a topic.

  “What kind of question is that?” Valthar asked, trying to hold back a frown.

  Trying to look oblivious he turned around and locked eyes with Marcos.

  The old man’s eyes glowed red, the light runes dim down further, cold sweat gathered on Valthar's back.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  An eye blink later and the lights in the ceiling glow back to normal.

  Marcos’s eyes stare at him with confusion, no red glow, no dread inducing stare.

  “Are you okay Valthar?” The old man asked in worry.

  He hadn’t asked anything nor could he remember if something else had asked anything.

  After all, they should be alone in this corridor.

  “Sorry, I think… I drank too much.” Shook his head and dismissed the sight as a simple alcohol fueled delusion.

  Then he stumbled his way to his bed.

  Marcos looked through the door filled with worry, something felt strange but he could not point out what.

  So he placed Valthar’s cane inside and closed the door.

  In silence the old man made his way down the stairs alone as Valthar sank deep into a dream.

  *

  The dream was the same, but tonight a lot changed.

  White were the walls that circled Vallthar.

  Green was the light pulsed inside his chest.

  Red was the color of the being on the other side of the room.

  White were the chains that held both of them down.

  It was not a friend, but at least tonight Valthar wasn't alone.

  ***

  When morning came, clouds covered the sky.

  Though with only a few hours of sleep Valthar felt refreshed as the energy ring in his chest poured his body with vigor.

  His mind was clear, even if a few memories from yesterday felt blurred.

  He felt today was going to be an important day, though wasn't quite sure where the idea came from.

  In an excited move he jumped off the bed only for his legs to almost give way under him.

  Soon his brown cane is hitting the floor and his steps move down the stairs.

  Having celebrated yesterday now was time to collect more life force and maybe try and find a way to hide his identity as well.

  With that he could start healing people for resources in a safe manner.

  That was his plan at least.

  *

  On the streets Valthar could hear people whisper around him.

  His worst fear had come true; the name Tree Toucher was spreading fast!

  Many eyed him with pity of a different flavor then the one they first showed.

  It felt more real, more personal.

  People who lost their minds after a week in the Church’s basement were sadly a common story.

  And while Valthar was not one of those poor sods, when people wished to believe a story even if he tried explaining he was fine nobody would believe it.

  So he didn’t.

  At the end of the day they were just strangers, much like the dozens of priests that hurried around the streets.

  Valthar’s cane struck to a stop and a frown formed between his brows.

  ‘Why are there so many Burning Light priests running around?’

  They walked in teams, quietly moving around people in this cloudy morning.

  They murmured to each other, rushed whispers and alarmed faces.

  ‘Something is not right.’

  Valthar started to turn around to go back to the Inn, only a voice echoes at the back of his memories.

  [Would you let her die? Are you really okay with the Church’s tyrannical ways?]

  Something had asked it in his dream, a dream he could not recall no matter how much he tried.

  Yet… he didn't need to remember to know what answer lives in his heart.

  The cane struck the ground and Valthar tried to dim his presence down.

  One step at a time he was on his way to the forest at the edge of the city.

  He wasn't sure what he would find.

  Nor what exactly was guiding him there.

  But he knew something was guiding him.

  And knew there was something he had to see.

  A decision he had to make.

  [It's a deal then.] Another phrase from his dream echoed in the back of his mind.

  Yet he could not remember if it was him or the old thing that had said this phrase.