Although Finn made a quick decision, his conscience refuses to let it go.

  "They saved me from the Manticore. They even helped me find my bag. Wouldn’t it be... ungrateful to get rid of them after all they’ve done for me?"

  Lying on his makeshift bed, Finn wrestles with the thought. On the other end of the room, Risa is already fast asleep. Though it’s their first day meeting, exhaustion overtook her the moment she filled her stomach. It’s dangerous, though, for a girl to let her guard down in front of a stranger—especially one accompanied by a shadowy figure and a suspicious plushie. Finn makes a mental note to teach her the importance of staying alert. Even if she can’t cast spells in her sleep, she should at least activate a magic stone capable of defending her from an ambush. He decides to add the expensive stone to his shopping list, already brainstorming a persuasive excuse for her to accept it.

  But first, he needs to shake off Inky and Plushie before he can purchase it from the guild’s merchant back in Mistwood.

  For now, they remain eerily quiet, floating in the corner of the room ever since Finn and Risa settled in. He isn't sure if they even need sleep. Or... are they standing guard over them? If that’s the case, the weight of his conscience only grows heavier.

  No, he’s already made up his mind. First, he needs to ensure Risa’s safety. Then, he’ll open the notebook and take the next step.

  It’s been a while since he last checked it. Perhaps now, in this rare moment of peace, he should take a look?

  Retrieving the book from his bag, he flips it open. The first page remains unchanged. His encounter with Risa was as predicted. But what comes after?

  He hesitates. It wouldn’t be wise to break the next seal here, not when dangerous predators lurk outside. It would be better to wait until they return to Mistwood and unlock it after he has purchased more magic vaults.

  Just as he’s about to close it, his fingers detect something odd: The next page feels loose. The seal on the second page... has already been broken?

  Before he can question it further, the words on the page command his attention:

  Veles will find you in Mistwood.

  "Veles? Who is that? Why does the name feel so familiar?"

  Finn wracks his brain, trying to match the name to anyone he has met. Nothing fits.

  The real question gnaws at him: How did the seal break? Who did it? And why?

  The only time the notebook wasn’t in his possession was when Inky and Plushie took it.

  Inky can conjure flames without a magic vault. Plushie absorbed the stored mana from the transportation stone. They are more than capable of breaking the seal. But why? Neither of them has ever shown interest in reading books.

  Pushing aside the unanswered questions, though he tries his best to keep his eyes open, sleep eventually claims him.

  “Come, Finn, look at my boy!”

  A dark-haired young man in a knight’s attire, his dark green cloak trimmed in steel colour, stood beside a gentle, pale-faced woman who leaned against the bedframe, cradling a newborn in her arms.

  “Well, he has your eye and hair colours, but glad that he looks like his mother, not you,” Finn teased.

  “I think the same!” The knight, engulfed in the joy of first-time fatherhood, laughed at the jab. “He’ll be a heartbreaker when he grows up!”

  The woman chuckled softly, imagining their child’s future as a handsome, capable adult.

  “Have you chosen his name?” Finn bent down and gestured ‘hi’ to the baby.

  The knight exchanged glances with his wife. She smiled warmly. “Veles. His name is Veles.”

  Finn jolts awake, his heart pounding. He checks the clock. He’s only been asleep for half an hour.

  "How could I forget the name of my friend’s son? Is he still alive?"

  Memories of the Dark Time resurface. Endless waves of predators claim countless lives. Could it be that the family survived?

  Any lingering doubts vanish. His resolve hardens.

  He must bring Risa back safely. Then, he will find Veles.

  To get him and Risa home safely, Finn knows he needs a better handle on Inky and Plushie’s strengths.

  Inky’s simple. It’s strong, fast, and a bit like a curious child. Plushie, though, is still a mystery. Other than absorbing magic and storing items, it doesn’t show much intelligence. The only time it acted with purpose was when it snatched his transportation stone, then returned his bag and the stone.

  That thought sparks another puzzle in his mind.

  “I drew them a bag before we returned to the scene. Why didn’t Plushie return it immediately? Why wait until I was helplessly searching for it?”

  Without more evidence, he decides to test their limits instead.

  Predators roam this area. Why not use them to gauge Inky’s full strength? He has the whole night to think it through.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  In the morning, Risa wakes up with a long yawn.

  “Good morning! Sleep well?” Finn greets her.

  “Good morning, Mr Finn! I haven’t slept that well in ages!”

  “Glad to hear it. Just Finn is fine. I can heat up some canned food, and after breakfast, shall we go hunting?”

  Risa is confused. “We’re not going back yet?”

  “No. Because we have Inky.” Finn gestures to the shadowy figure and its plush companion in the corner. They remain unnoticed until he points them out.

  “Inky’s a beast,” Finn says. “It can handle predators like nothing. With it around, we can gather magic cores and rare materials safely. And I’ve got enough rations to keep us going for another two weeks.”

  Risa’s eyes light up. “That’s incredible! I’m in.”

  Finn laughs at her excitement. “Didn’t even need to pitch it twice.”

  Before setting out, he kneels before Inky and Plushie, communicating his plan through simple drawings. He sketches a pack of Manticores, Inky fighting them, and two stick figures—one tall, one small—grinning happily.

  Inky nods without hesitation.

  After finishing breakfast, they set off in search of a large pack of predators. They start small—B-rank predators, just to be safe. Keeping their distance, Finn and Risa hide in a corner and their presence is masked, ready to flee if things go south.

  But it’s over in seconds. Inky tears through them like paper, leaving only crushed remains and glowing magic cores in its wake.

  "Don't look, it's too gruesome," Finn warns, gesturing for Risa to cover her eyes as the brutal one-sided slaughter unfolds before them.

  Risa frowns. Why does this man say the same thing her parents do? "No, I have to get used to this before I become a knight!"

  Finn shrugs. There’s no point in arguing with a girl who has made up her mind—unless she experiences it firsthand.

  When severed limbs and torn organs fly dangerously close to their hiding spot, her stomach clenches. A bitter taste rises in her throat. Without a word, she turns away and faces the wall.

  Finn sighs.

  The battle ends swiftly, a landslide victory. Finn has never been so grateful that Inky and Plushie are friendly towards them, but the sheer display of raw, unchecked power only solidifies his determination. He must find a way to shake them off, rather than bringing them back and endangering others.

  With a piece of cloth covering her nose, Risa joins Finn in collecting magic cores and any intact remains that could be used for crafting magical devices or weapons.

  "It seems too easy for Inky," Finn smiles. "Why don't we raise the challenge?"

  Risa had just been suffering from nausea, but now, as she counts the value of their spoils, her excitement overrides her discomfort. Her eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. "No objections here!"

  They move on to a stronger group of predators. Inky, like a reaper of death, cuts through them mercilessly, filling their pockets and stuffing their storage stones with valuables.

  It does not tire, does not falter. No predator can land a devastating hit, but every strike it delivers is fatal. By the end of the day, Risa is glowing with satisfaction. She even offers to prepare food for Finn and Inky, and if Plushie could eat, she would gladly cook for it too.

  Finn, on the other hand, wears a troubled expression.

  He stares blankly at the predator meat roasting over the fire. "Inky is too strong, and no predators on these floors can pose a threat to it. But if we descend deeper to challenge higher-ranked predators, I’ll be putting Risa in danger."

  Which means… his plan of slipping away while Inky is busy subduing enemies has failed. So what’s the next move?

  He watches as Inky devours the predator meat. Does it even have a stomach? Can it feel full?

  An idea takes root in his mind.

  The next day brings another hunt. Finn cannot help but notice how few predators remain, still their efforts yield a bounty of meat. And this time, they return to their room earlier than before, moving to a chamber closer to the surface.

  "Let’s cook Inky a feast as a reward," Finn suggests.

  Risa eagerly agrees, busying herself with the preparation, seasoning the meat with Finn’s condiments.

  Finn forbids Inky from taking a single bite before all the meat is fully cooked.

  Once everything is ready, Finn shows Inky how to eat slowly, savouring the taste and aroma as a human would, rather than devouring it like a wild beast.

  Inky is bewildered by Finn’s action, but still it obediently follows suit, like it always did.

  While Inky is relishing the meat, Finn takes a stick and draws on the ground—two stick figures representing himself and Risa, a plant, and the sun above them. He points at the plant and then at himself and Risa, signalling their intention to search for it on the surface.

  Inky pauses mid-meal, then points at itself before pointing back at Finn, as if to say, "I want to follow you."

  So, the food isn’t enough to distract it from us. Finn exhales sharply. But he won’t give up just yet.

  He shakes his head. To make his refusal more straightforward, he crosses his arms firmly in front of him.

  Inky doesn’t back down. It repeats the motion—pointing at itself, then at Finn.

  For the first time, it is neither docile nor obedient. It is stubborn.

  Plushie floats silently beside Inky, while Risa, watching their exchange, is unsure of what to say.

  Seeing no progress, Finn pulls a clock from his bag and hands it to Inky.

  "This is a clock," he explains, though he doubts Inky understands. "It’s how we track time."

  He taps the clock face. "We need to leave now." He demonstrates by walking two fingers across his palm. "Right now, it’s about twelve o’clock. When this short hand rotates…" He pauses. They need enough time to get away. "Ten times, then we’ll be back."

  Inky might not understand the concept of time, so Finn moves his finger around the clock in a full circle until it reaches twelve again. Then, he draws a tally on the ground—one stick per full rotation—until he marks ten, then, the two stick figures will be back to where the black smoke and the plushie are.

  Silence.

  The swirling black mist surrounding Inky slows, its usually lively motions subdued.

  Does it not want to wait that long? Finn wonders. Risa watches from the sidelines, her confusion remains unanswered.

  Before Finn can think of another approach, Inky nods. Slowly.

  Relief washes over Finn. "Glad you understand, Inky.”

  He reaches out, intending to act like patting one’s shoulder—but his fingers pass through cold, intangible smoke.

  Now, all that’s left is to bring Risa back to a safe place.

  Wasting no time, he signals for Risa to follow him out of the labyrinth. She does so without hesitation, though before leaving, she turns back to wave at Inky and Plushie. "Thanks for your help! I’ve stuffed my storage stone full because of you two! See you later!" She knows they might not understand what she said, but still she is deeply grateful for their company in the dark, cold dungeon.

  Finn, meanwhile, gathers his belongings, taking one last look at the two left behind. "Thank you for saving my life." He swallows the rest. "And when that time comes… I’ll apologise for what I’ve done."

  With that, he firmly grabs Risa’s arm and leads her away, out of the labyrinth and back to the surface.