It is nightfall when the party of three finally arrives at the Sheffar Forest’s hidden settlement in the trees. As they approach, she takes in the sight – the way the starry night sky fades against the light emanating from the houses and wooden structures atop the ancient trees, each and every one of them possibly as old as the tree that rests in the middle of Ildenwood Forest. Here and there, between the trees, a wooden bridge sings a subtle creak in the nighttime breeze. Music spills out of the main building – the largest building, where they met the Bandit King before.

As exhaustion settles into her bones, Lahab still cannot believe that they are alive – that the Cragenbacks they hold are real – and that they have survived an encounter with the Mussena in the Starlight Cavern. It is a miracle, and as she stares at the back of the Wanderer’s head, she wonders if it might have gone any differently had he not been there.

Truly, if the Wanderer had not been there today, she would have certainly perished. But if Prince Shoja had not been there, the two of them would have certainly perished, anyway. It seems that fate – not coincidence – has sent her two surprisingly reliable allies.

Two allies who might die trying to protect me and the artifact.

Had she not been so shocked by the fact that her Dragon’s Breath had done nothing to even stall the creature, perhaps she might have been of more use in the cavern. As it was, though it made her feel quite foolish to admit, all she could do was gape at the monster that charged her. Nothing could have every prepared her for the terror that rushed through her veins in that moment, blood running cold as though she had fallen ice-sick. The utter sense of despair as she realized she could not stand to this monster when she had been so confident that she could – and now she would die, and so would the others, and all of it was her own foolish fault, accepting the Bandit King’s challenge without hesitation.

More unsettling still is the fact that the Wanderer’s condition continues to mystify and puzzle her. While she watched in the cavern, frozen in shock against the wall, he had done battle with the Mussena. Strange battle – not altogether a martial arts or any other kind of fighting style she had ever seen before – but battle nonetheless, and enough to keep the monster occupied. That alone is remarkable – though there is more that worries her.

The Wanderer’s numbers… they changed. Four digits. Four… She can’t be completely certain, for it was only a short glimpse at his condition and she was truly shaken at the time. However, as she follows behind the Wanderer, who stumbles and sways, sighing with relief at the sight of the town in the trees, she knows enough to know that what she saw in the cavern today was not natural.

“Well, I think we made good time,” the Wanderer mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. “At least we found the place.”

“I thought you said you knew the way back. My head is killing me,” Shoja replies, clearly relieved to see their destination at last.

“My heart bleeds for you,” the Wanderer replies sarcastically. “Give me that sword, and I’ll show you what it feels like to try navigating a forest such as this in my condition.”

“Enough,” Lahab scolds the two of them. Her patience has worn thin, and her anger grows with every step – anger with these Sheffar Forest scoundrels – but she is relieved, too. If Prince Shoja and the Wanderer have the energy to be snarky, they’ll be alright. “It’s time to go collect our things.”

And this time, if the Bandit King stands in her way, she will personally see to it that his town is no more than ash.

🏹

“So, you have returned victorious,” the Bandit King announces, clapping his hands together with excitement. The sound of his voice alone is enough to silence the whole room. People – men, women, and children of all ages – fill this small space built above the trees, and now they stand by expectantly, watching. “I must say, this is unexpected. Most people never venture near the Starlight Cavern. The beast hunts thereabouts.” His smile is almost smug as he takes in their loot with a hungry eye. “I see that I was not mistaken about you three, however. You are not most people, are you? We should have a banquet tonight in your honor!”

Lahab crosses her arms, her glare trained on his dark eyes. “You will forgive us for our lack of enthusiasm, but I do recall a promise made to return my stolen belongings upon successful completion of your quest.” She pushes forward the stack of Glowing Cragenbacks with her foot. “We have fulfilled our side of a bargain we should have never had to make. Now, it is time you keep yours.”

“So impatient, little Guardian,” the Bandit King says with a chuckle, but nods to someone in the crowd. Lahab is irked to find it is Gunya; not only is it her fault that Muna is in such a precarious situation now, but she had also left them for dead in the forest. Lahab holds no sympathy for the woman who returns her sack to her, eyes downcast. She cares little for her shame.

Lahab checks the contents of the sack, running through its inventory. Everything is accounted for. There is nothing missing. I think.

Most importantly, Muna is there, and as far as she can tell, its condition has not changed.

“Are you satisfied?” the Bandit King asks from atop his wooden throne. When Lahab nods, he, too, seems satisfied. “Very well, then. I expect you and your companions will need medical attention – the Wanderer over there is staining my floors.”

Lahab glances back at the Wanderer and sees that he is, indeed, dripping blood onto the polished wooden planks. A quick skim through his condition tells her what she needs to know:

Afflictions & Injuries

Wanderer’s Curse

Extensive lacerations

Venom of the Mussena

She winces and regrets not asking for medical aid sooner – instead, she was so concerned with Muna and her other items that she completely forgot about her wounded comrades; not that she’s ever had to worry about comrades, but that’s not a worthy excuse. The Wanderer, for his part, is silent. Pale, certainly not faring well, but he does not complain. He stares at a spot on the ground, brow furrowed in concentration as he tries not to collapse into a heap.

“Please,” she says, turning back to the Bandit King. “The sooner the better.”

“Doa,” the Bandit King calls, and a young plump woman steps out of the crowd and, calling for some other men to help her, manages to carry the weakened and swaying Wanderer off. Just when they think she has left, she pops her head back in the doorway and calls for Shoja.

“I’ll need to take a look at that head injury, young man,” she says, and her voice leaves no room for protest. Shoja hesitates, meeting Lahab’s eyes, his hand still resting on his sword.

“You should go,” Lahab tells him. “Your injuries too require attention.”

Still he hesitates, glancing to the Bandit King warily, but ultimately nods his head and turns to follow the healer Doa and the rest. When she turns back, she sees that already someone was carrying off the Cragenbacks, their subtle glow almost lost in the strong, warm lights of the firestones laid into the wooden planks. The members of the crowd begin to disperse; others begin to fall back into the groups they were in when Lahab and the others first returned.

“You will want to rest and restock your supplies before going on your way,” the Bandit King says, taking a stand and approaching her slowly. “That peculiar Wanderer may not be in any condition to continue the journey on the morrow. You are welcome to stay here until he is healed enough to travel.”

She wants to decline, but the Wanderer needs the time to rest and heal, and it will be better that he does so under the watchful eye of a healer rather than her and Shoja’s meager healing skills. “I will accept your offer,” she says, though it tastes bitter as it passes through her lips. It is the least he can do, in any case.

“Good,” the Bandit King replies. “If you do not mind, I would speak to you in private.”

“Why?”

“Because, little Guardian,” he replies, leaning in closer and lowering his voice conspiratorially, “you carry with you an artifact most priceless, and I can only assume you are delivering it to a certain location for safekeeping.”

Lahab pauses for a moment. She already knows she cannot trust all the Noble Guardians she will meet, but she still does not know foe from friend. “How do you know I am not stealing it?” she demands.

He gives her an amused smile, hands clasped behind his back. “There were two others – they came through not too long ago, seeking the abyss. Foreigners,” he said, then added: “Well, more foreign than you, in any case. Less foreign than that Wanderer of Realms, but foreigners nonetheless. Quite rude, if I do say so myself. I gather you aren’t in cahoots with these unsavory characters, are you?”

“I’ve no other companions than the two I travel with,” Lahab replies carefully. “What… did you do with the foreigners?”

“We sent them on their way,” the Bandit King says, ushering her out of the throne hall and into the crisp night air. “Of course, we required payment in exchange for safe passage out of the forest – but we delivered them in one piece. We didn’t take them in the direction of the abyss, but then, you can’t really trust thieves and bandits, can you?” he asked with a small chuckle. “I do believe we sent them back the way they came.”

Lahab follows behind the Bandit King as he leads her down a staircase spiraled around the tree trunk. “Perhaps I have met the two you speak of,” she admits. “Brothers. Thrae, I think the name was.”

“Indeed,” he says, and, looking back over his shoulder with the same smug smile, adds: “I wonder if they survived a meeting with you, however.”

“What makes you say that?” she asks defensively. A small twinge of guilt runs through her, but then she reminds herself that if it hadn’t been them, it would have been her and the Wanderer who died that day instead. She reminds herself that those men are here to throw their world into chaos in some ill-fated attempt at trying to control a destructive force such as Muna. The guilt is practically gone.

“You’re quite the serious young lady,” the Bandit King says after a moment’s consideration. “I suppose it makes sense, seeing as how you’re trying to hold onto something like Muna, of all things. That they were searching for the abyss tells me that they are not particularly interested in its peaceful properties.”

“No,” Lahab agrees. “We don’t think they are, either.”

“My people do not often concern ourselves with matters outside the limits of our woodland realm, but we can grant you safe passage through the Sheffar Forest,” he tells her. “I will send one of my own with you. She will be able to guide you through the forest and help you on your journey beyond.”

“If it is Gunya, I must politely decline,” Lahab says dryly. She still holds a grudge against the woman.

“No, I don’t believe she would take on such a request, either,” he replies, flashing his teeth. “The person I have in mind is much more reliable, I assure you.”

“That is kind. However… Why should I trust you?” Lahab asks. “After everything you’ve put me and my friends through – you must understand my hesitation. We could have died trying to fulfill your ridiculous deal, and yet here you are, trying to help me complete my quest. To be frank, you are unlike any of the Guardians I have met. I cannot tell if that is a good thing or a bad thing just yet.”

The Bandit King comes to a stop. “Let us say that I have a debt to repay,” he tells her at last.

🏹