He woke up on his back, every limb screaming. His ribs ached. His breath came in short, sharp bursts.

  In panic, he threw his hands in the air, trying to see them.

  His claws were gone. His fingers were bloody, skin torn away, nails broken. Seeing it only made the pain worse.

  He quickly rifled through his satchel, wincing as the cold glass aggravated his wounds.

  He sat up slowly as he took out the healing tincture.

  He froze just as he was about to uncork it.

  The tree was gone. The massive plant he had practiced against was just not there.

  Nothing but a splintered ruin remained, like a storm had torn it apart from the inside.

  He looked around, and a ring of devastation extended meters in every direction.

  David blinked, then stared at his fingers, bloody and shaking.

  I did this?

  Memories returned in fragments.

  He’d lost himself.

  His mind had gone black, but his body had become… perfect. Every strike felt divine. Every motion instinctual.

  And something inside him had loved it.

  “That was too much,” he whispered. And the shape of those scythes... He remembered them well.

  How they caved in a ceiling.

  How they decapitated good people.

  How they lay crumpled around the dead predator.

  David stood up, wobbling slightly.

  There was no doubt anymore. That monster lived within him now.

  It’s not that bad, right? He tried to convince himself.

  He’d just have to dial it back. It was all good almost until the end.

  All he needed to do was not lose control.

  Yes, that’s right! It could be an ace up my sleeve…

  He started spreading the tincture all over his fingers as he stepped through the broken branches, toward the city.

  Wait.

  Weren’t they planning a big sale with Viera for today? He looked up at the canopy and noticed the light growing orange.

  Shit, I lost track of time.

  David quickly stashed the medicine and jogged all the way back to the gates.

  -=-=-

  Once he left the confines of the forest, a surprising sight welcomed him back. The mages were already gone and so were the fiery craters.

  The plain before the gates looked just as it did when they had first arrived. If you didn’t look too closely at the remaining people.

  He spotted Sophie, still among them, standing over a large pot.

  What is she doing here this late? Didn’t we have different plans?

  A young girl among a faceless crowd… He shivered and ran toward her.

  Sophie was dozing off as she stirred the soup.

  “Hey, are you alright?” David’s words startled her.

  “Oh, it’s you.” She almost spun around, but stopped when she saw him. “Just tired.”

  Sophie’s hands were reddened and her arms sagged. She must have spent the whole day cooking. It would be wrong to ask her to do more.

  “Maybe we should go home for the day? It might be too late to bother Viera anyway.”

  The people around them looked at him warily.

  You could cook this yourself, you know? He grumbled, but he didn’t dare speak out loud.

  “Huh? Viera? Viera…” Sophie muttered, lost in thought. “Oh, right. You can go alone, I’ll just…” She yawned, “finish this.”

  She was falling asleep standing up. She was an adult and could take care of herself. It wasn’t his responsibility to help with her reckless philanthropy.

  But I could help. I don’t want her to collapse.

  He took the ladle from her hands.

  “What are you–” Sophie protested, but weakly.

  “It’s okay, I got this. Just sit down and rest.”

  He tasted the soup and it was basically ready.

  As Sophie was dozing off on the ground, David poured the soup into anything that could serve as a bowl and handed it out to the waiting people.

  He winced each time the hot liquid splashed on his torn up hands. Luckily, it was getting dark so nobody saw his pain.

  Once the soup had been distributed, He woke Sophie up and they walked home, leaving behind the cooking implements.

  He helped Sophie get into bed and she fell asleep almost immediately.

  How much did she overexert herself? And for what? He just didn’t get it.

  Despite all that happened, it wasn’t really that late. It would still be hours before Aura and Bert came back.

  He sat down to cut cloth into strips. He needed to bandage his fingers properly.

  The hard-working adults would appreciate a meal of their own, too.

  He had a lot to do with Sophie resting.

  In the end, they didn’t visit Viera that day. Nor the next one. Sophie’s incensed state of hopeless volunteering lasted the better part of a week.

  It wasn’t until days later, that he finally got her to come along and meet the mysterious woman.

  At least the farmers were sympathetic and donated food for the cause. If Sophie burnt through all their hard-earned savings doing this, his patience would have truly ran out.

  The Mason’s Retreat was louder than the last time he had been there. The clanking of wooden mugs and loud laughs poured out through the slightly ajar doors.

  David glanced at Sophie and the satchel with precious frost blossoms at her side.

  Are we really doing this?

  She shrugged and pushed open the door, only to nearly collide with one of the silver-haired twins sweeping near the entrance.

  “Sorry-” she began.

  She looked up, eyes flicking between Sophie and him. “Oh it’s you!” She flashed him a smile. “Are you here for M… Viera?”

  David paused for a second, but nodded.

  M…? Viera’s real name or something?

  “She’s in the back. Door on the right.” She stepped aside and pointed toward the corner of the room.

  They made their way through the tavern, trying not to bump any of the increasingly drunk patrons.

  David knocked on the indicated door. It opened just a sliver.

  Viera peered through and her face donned a grin. “It’s the weird kid and green girl! Come on in.”

  A chain clinked and the door opened.

  The room behind her was cramped and windowless, lit only by a dim lamp. It stood on a shoddy table that took up most of the space.

  A thick ledger spread across it and a quill resting beside a half-filled inkwell. Runes covered parts of the floor and walls. Some of them he recognized, but not enough to determine their purpose.

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

  David’s eyes landed on the ledger. Sprawling tables with numbers and rows of names. Unless they kept track of every single patron and their purchases, definitely not tavern records.

  Viera quickly walked up to the table, and in a single smooth movement, she slammed the ledger shut.

  The sleeve of her shirt slipped in the motion, revealing her upper arm. Angry red scars, fresh burns, curled up her skin in jagged ridges.

  David’s breath caught.

  She quickly covered it up. Her eyes flicked to him, and her voice lowered. “Keep your eyes to yourself unless you want to lose them.”

  “Sorry,” he muttered, looking away.

  Why was she burned like that? Was it connected to the burnt fields in front of the city? David was having a hard time wrapping his head around it, but he was sure of one thing.

  Viera was no regular fence.

  Sophie, oblivious, unhooked her satchel and placed their bundles on the table. “We found some good ones. These are frost blossoms.”

  Viera arched a brow and picked the slightly dried bundle up. She gave it a once-over, then turned to Sophie. “You picked these? How?”

  Sophie hesitated. “He did.”

  A slow, knowing smile spread across Viera’s face. “Full of surprises, aren’t you?” She set the flower down. “Keep it up and you’ll even get a new nickname from me.”

  She put a finger to her chin, seemingly in deep thought. “How about magic-fingers?”

  David struggled hard not to roll his eyes. Viera, however happy-go-lucky she seemed, could turn murderous in seconds.

  “Anyway.” She opened a small drawer and counted out a pile of silver coins, then pushed it toward them. “Thirty. They’re rare around here, and yours are pristine.”

  David tried to hide his surprise. It was such a large amount… and yet, not that much for something that requires such a specific skill set to gather.

  “Is that all you got?” Viera added, clearly hoping for a negative answer.

  Sophie brought out the rest of the gathered herbs and received five more coins. They were about to leave, but David wanted some information, and Viera seemed like a person to get that from.

  “Do you know anything about applying to the academy?” He asked.

  Sophie looked at him quizzically, while Viera nodded sagely.

  “Yeah. Forget about it, you won’t get in.” She seemed serious. “It’s for nobles and the rich.”

  David expected such an answer… but it hurt nonetheless. He nodded and off they went, leaving Viera to her machinations.

  As they stepped back into the tavern, The silver-haired girl was looking at him again, her twin nowhere to be seen. Or was that the twin this time? It was hard to tell with them being dressed the same.

  “Want to sit down?” she asked as they passed. “We’ve got stew. And you look like you could use it.”

  David blinked, but Sophie immediately shook her head. “Uh… thanks, but we’ve got stuff to do.”

  She gave a tiny nod, but disappointment flickered across her expression.

  Outside, the air was cooler.

  “She keeps looking at you,” Sophie said.

  David shrugged. “Everyone calls me weird lately, it’s only natural.”

  Sophie stared at him for a few breaths.

  They walked a few paces in silence before David spoke again. “Are we really doing this?”

  Sophie nodded. “Yeah. Mornings in the forest?”

  “And then you can go back to the refugees.” David said. “And I’ll… stay out longer.”

  She gave him a side glance. “And do your own thing?”

  He hesitated. “More gathering, you know.”

  “All right. Just don’t overdo it.” She didn’t press the issue, but it was clear she knew about his ‘secret’ training.

  He offered a small grin. “I would never.”

  They started into a rhythm. Go deep, avoid monsters, gather expensive herbs.

  Then train… Or waste time on other people.

  Simple.

  Not easy, but simple.

  The clack of wooden practice swords echoed through the garden.

  Darryl sidestepped a wild swing and tapped the pink-haired girl lightly on the side of her head. “Faster on the pull back” he grunted. “Unless you want to kiss dirt again.”

  Sally scowled and jumped back, sweat trickling down her temple. She was barely twelve but strong for her age.

  Somewhere behind them, the laughter of two younger boys drifted over the tall grass—they sat cross-legged, mimicking sword swings with sticks. Too young, still.

  “You’re not even listening, are you?” Alver stood off to the side, arms folded, brow furrowed.

  “I’m listening,” Darryl replied, parrying another strike. He let the girl press in, then shoved her away with his elbow. “You’re just not saying anything worth hearing yet.”

  “Cero’s guys are talking my ear off.” Alver sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And what am I supposed to do? Ki-Elico's locked down. Completely.”

  Darryl turned slightly, still keeping one eye on the girl. “You made the call to delay their reinforcements.”

  “Yeah, I fucked up. Bite me.” Alver paced, voice rising. “But now they think they’ve found something. Something old. Ruins or something. They need someone who can read ancient.”

  “A translator.”

  Alver nodded. “A good one. Like, high-noble level of good.“

  Darryl turned to him. The girl lunged forward with an overhead slash.

  Darryl shifted just a little too slow and her wooden blade clipped the side of his shoulder.

  He twisted around, letting her momentum carry her past him. He slammed her in the back with the flat of his sword, sending her into the grass again.

  “Good call, bad execution,” he muttered. “If you have such an angle, a quick stab will do.”

  “But I’m not big enough!” She groaned and rolled over, pouting.

  Darryl looked back to Alver. “I can’t help you. Sorry.”

  “We need this, Darryl.” Alver snapped.

  “You need this.” Darryl corrected the man. He rubbed at his jaw. “Listen, I’ve got something in motion. I’m trying for officer in the Hammer of Vennevar.”

  “And I’m the bride of Morgan Kira.” Alver chuckled, but then noticed Darryl’s expression. “Wait, you’re serious?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” Darryl snorted. “Half the people on the inside are lazy bastards playing politics. And I have Brenn’s name behind me.”

  “If you get in… And we cooperate with the capital’s group…” Alver’s eyes were darting to the sides as he calculated all the options. He looked straight into Darryl’s eyes. “We’ll have a clear lane through the supply chain.”

  “Exactly.”

  Alver’s expression relaxed slightly. “And until then?”

  “I need to stay on the low.”

  “Fine. You better do your best.” Alver nodded. “Anyway, what’s up with the kids?” He eyed Sally up and down.

  The pink-haired girl froze mid motions as she was brushing dirt from her arms.

  Darryl shrugged then kicked the wooden sword toward her. “Again. Small, efficient moves this time.”

  That pulled her back. She picked it up and got ready.

  He then looked Alver straight in the eyes. “Mind your own business, you got enough problems.”

  Alver raised his hands and rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. I was just curious.” then turned to leave.

  Darryl pushed him out of his mind, squared his stance and raised his blade.

  “I’m growing old here. Boring me to death is not the worst you came up with, but I think you can do better.”

  The girl frowned. “Is something wrong with us?”

  Darryl kept his eyes on her sword as she spoke.

  “No. Alver is just always trying to recruit new soldiers.”

  “And would that be wrong? Maybe I’d want that?”

  Darryl recoiled. Want to be included in all this mess?

  Seeing his reaction, Sally jumped forward. Her brothers cheered the attack.

  But Darryl was ready. He parried, then kicked.

  His boot connected squarely with Sally’s chest, throwing her across the garden.

  She laid there, unable to breathe from the impact.

  “Tricks are good, but you need power. Raw skill. Stop trying to win and start trying to get better.” Darryl said. “Now get up and train properly.”

  Almost two weeks had passed since the eclipse; David and Sophie were making their way through the forest. The birds chirped overhead, muted and distant, and every now and then, a breeze stirred the underbrush.

  Since then, he and Sophie had kept up their routine. Morning excursions, deep into the forest. Seek, gather… sometimes retreat. They could outrun anything that noticed them thus far.

  David crouched low over a patch of fern, brushing it aside to inspect the soil beneath. He sighed and stood, wiping his hands on his pants.

  Sophie glanced at him, a parchment and some charcoal in her hands. “So it was nothing?”

  “An overgrown voel.” He shook his head. “I could have sworn this time it would be something pricey”

  It was a decent find; Tern stalks, Voel roots, a few stray stalks of melos—They were all fine– but none of the rare herbs that fetched big coin.

  They scraped forward, slowly. And with every day that passed, the weight of it grew heavier.

  Sophie marked the area as a dud as she walked toward him. “It’s okay. We’re already doing a lot as is.”

  “Are we?” David said. “Our results don’t speak for it.”

  Sophie clicked her tongue. It was pointless to argue.

  They trudged deeper, mapping another area.

  Then David froze. This might be it. He saw a massive mana signature, that seemed like a plant.

  “There,” he whispered, pointing.

  Sophie followed his direction as they rushed forward until they saw it: a massive, bulbous plant nestled in a shaded clearing.

  Pale purple veins pulsed across its semi-translucent surface, and long tendrils waved lazily in the air, brushing against nearby bushes like curious fingers.

  “What is that…?” David was taken aback.

  “A ghora bulb?” Sophie mused, eyes wide. “But it’s like three times larger than any I’ve seen.”

  David’s pulse quickened. “How do we get it?”

  “Usually you call for backup. Someone distracts it,” Sophie said, “The stalks react to movement and noise, but you can cut them off.”

  Looking at the large, poisonous-looking tendrils, he swallowed hard.

  “If I take their attention, can you cut them?” He offered.

  “Yeah.” Sophie wasn’t very surprised. They needed it, afterall.

  David waited for Sophie to circle around the clearing, then stepped forward.

  The stalks twitched immediately.

  David moved slowly at first, then broke into a sprint. The stalks lashed at him, grazing the air where he’d been moments before.

  He ducked, weaved, and let them chase his shadow across the clearing.

  They didn’t move like animals or monsters. They were much more predictable.

  Until they weren’t. Two of the tendrils suddenly swapped direction, trying to hit him from two sides at once.

  Sophie was almost at the bulb, her knife flashing.

  David pumped mana into his legs and jumped. He pulled his knees up, as the tendrils crossed below him.

  One, two, three precise cuts.

  The stalks writhed, struggling to coil back as Sophie removed them from their bases. The bulb collapsed into itself like a deflated sack.

  David wiped off the sweat of his forehead and stepped over the tendrils. “You good?”

  Sophie held up the prize. “It’s beautiful.”

  They emptied David’s satchel, stuffing the oversized root inside. It barely fit, bulging at the seams.

  “This might be a hundred on its own,” Sophie said. “Maybe more.”

  They laughed. Finally.

  Sophie stood and stretched, slinging the now-heavy pack over her shoulder. “Let’s head back?”

  David paused.

  Just beyond the tree line, something shimmered faintly in his mana sight.

  A clump of glowing moss, glinting like a coin in sunlight. A mosser?

  He hasn’t seen them ever since they made it close to the city. Could be worth good money.

  He took a step forward. “Maybe one more?”

  Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Really? We’re already loaded.”

  “It’s right there,” David said, even as a small knot of unease stirred in his chest. “Won’t take a second. I’ll carry it.”

  “Marco…” She started, but gave a tired shrug. “Your call.”

  He nodded and took another step, the moss shining brighter in his mind’s eye.

  And the forest around them was quiet. David didn’t stop to think why.