Orion and Kora saw Lesan in the distance, past the gold-hued haze. They trotted along a trailing river, their thighs weary from hours of riding. The ambush had left two mercenaries and two Seekers breathing. Zerabeil had been one of the first to fall, his defenceless bulky body an easy target. On the other hand, the mercenaries had been overcome by the bandits’ numbers, at least before Orion and Kora had ended the battle.

Following this, Kora had tended to the living’s injuries, then the two Seekers had raided Zerabeil’s merchandise, taking dry rations, a few bottles of fancy wine, and five gold coins each. He had been a merchant in fine wines and grains meaning they couldn’t take most of his wares without burdening their bags. Then, they had mounted two of his three horses and left the mercenaries. While Orion had wanted to walk with them, they had assured him they would be a-ok, most likely to loot the rest of Zerabeil’s stock, and Kora had pressured him to shut up and follow her.

The remaining passage to Lesan had been cold and dull. Kora had piped down, leaving Orion with souvenirs of the fight: haunting memories and frightful thoughts. He had killed, she had killed, she had scared, he had bested and murdered foes, wretched men, humans.

His shortsword had been light, as always, but the price of his swings had been heavy - crushed memories and dreams. Fates. It reminded him of his mother in the tunnel, but more of her slayers: he was now of a similar breed to them.

Kora saw his grief-stricken state but didn’t offer any words to comfort. Perhaps she knew the power of time because as hours passed, despite his thoughts being the same, their bites numbed and fractured.

Now, he stared at Lesan empty of feeling. The river beside them joined the sea a bit ahead before circling the city like a moat. Sturdy stone-laden bridges connected the lands, making Lesan look like a docked ship, ready to sail any moment.

They arrived at a bridge and dismounted, urging the horses towards the waiting guards.

“Hea, stand heyre,” a brunet guard said while inspecting the two. “A gold for yous toll fee,”

“You can have these horses,” Kora said. While the horses weren’t textbook pictures of health or strength, they were still worth the amount.

“Sures, I’ll take ‘em. But, also the gold. We need to eat,” the guard replied. He wore a dented cuirass, cloth trousers and underclothes, and gripped a halberd. His fellow guards wore mismatched clothing, their image between that of guards and gangsters.

“We’re Seekers,” she said.

Orion stared past the men, his passions drained.

“Oh, are yous? Well, where’s the proof?” the guard said. His mates closed in on Kora.

Her hand flickered out of sight and viscously backhanded the brunet guard, throwing him off balance and onto his arse. His halberd clattered beside him.

He wiped blood off his cheek and stood, his fists clenched. “The gall to strike Lesan’s guards. Yous done for,” he roared while shooting spittle.

His friends ambiguously stood back, giving him space for a bloody beatdown but also getting out of Kora’s range.

“And the audacity you have to charge such a toll,” she replied, unsheathing her sword. “My patience has worn out,”

The guard took a double take, then stepped back after seeing Kora rise above his intimidation. She was clearly a Seeker, or at the very least someone he couldn’t handle.

“F-fine. I’ll allow the horses this once,” he said, his shame hidden under his sunburned skin.

Unamused, Kora frowned and walked past, Orion following. They passed the city’s gate with little trouble and soon hopped on a boat. For a few coppers, they were punted to the Seeker’s building.

The water was sky-blue with splotches of lime-green. Sunlight glared off it and lit up the muck plastered across the canals. The buildings above were brightly painted, and trees of all types peppered the gaps. Constantly swapping, the smells of the water altered from pleasant to foul as they passed by sewer gates – while the sewage travelled through tunnels under the city, the frequent openings liberated the odour and tormented the locals. By the time they arrived, Orion had woken from his daze due to the spices thrown at his senses. They paid their fare and headed towards an unassuming building. After knocking, a portly man with a curled ginger moustache opened the door, before scrutinising them.

“Seekers or wannabes?” he asked, his open mouth releasing swamp-breath.

Kora squeezed her nose and leaned back. “We’re here to investigate the mysterious spree of murders,”

The man’s eyes lit up. He stepped aside and beckoned them in.

Stained sheets filled the squat room, the sides lined with books. They looked around the room while the man went to the kitchen, eventually coming back with two cups of sewage water, curiously accompanied by the aroma of roasted beans.

“Coffee for you two. An import from the south, gives you energy,” the man said. “By the way, my names Aaron,”

“Kora, and Jax,” Kora said, before picking up the coffee and sipping at it. She smiled and nodded.

Apeing her actions, Orion drank the coffee, before spitting it out onto the table. It was horribly bitter, and the heat scalded his tongue. He was now fully awake and stared at the other two with scrunched up eyebrows, eyeing them with disgust and shock.

“Keep drinking it, lad. It’s an acquired taste,” Aaron said while handing Orion a towel. He glanced around and continued. “I know what you two are thinking - why the hells a Seeker’s building so small?”

Kora nodded, taking down her cloak’s cowl, while Orion progressed to round two with his coffee, before swiftly being knocked out again.

“Well, it’s what happens when a new place emerges with poor idiots as the people. Whenever they got a monster problem, they hire the gangs to sort it out, always leading to unnecessary deaths, though maybe for the good. It means I rarely get contracts. The ones I do get, like your one, are issued by the council once they realise they’re hopeless at this business,” Aaron said.

“But that’s off the topic. I’m sure you wanna know more of your contract,” he continued. “Well, they gave me a list of nasty deaths they couldn’t solve. I connected the ones you know of, although there may be more, and it’s gotta be a Korshi. I recommend you start at the first scene, like the two before you did,”

Kora questioned Aaron about the details surrounding the case while Orion built his army and waged campaigns against the coffee, whittling it down until he bested it on the field. By this point, his body was filled with energy and his tongue was seared beyond use. They left Aaron and used another taxi to get to the first scene, where a woman had been found without her stomach and organs but with a shattered ribcage. It was a dingy alleyway with stairs into the murky canal. There was rubbish packed around and any blood she had shed was now mixed with the city’s filth.

Kora knelt and inspected the area while Orion stood behind, confused at what he could do.

“Hey,” came a shout from in front. Two figures walked around the corner, both armed to the teeth.