The stranger moves to the well and kneels. “A missing body? No. It is no mystery, but it’s uncomely to explain it here. Before we talk further, I wish to pay my respects. And my apologies. It’s…personal.”

The knight turns to Iacy and she shrugs with a look of decision. “I have a better way to soothe her pain. Some wood, please, just a little would suffice,” she instructs, and the knight obeys. Stacking up half a dozen chopped blocks that were left at a corner – probably by someone too afraid to come retrieve it from the haunted well – the goddess proceeds with her chant, and the result is a Bonfire Of Dreams as glaringly radiant as yesternight’s. At first it seems ordinary, but then it hums as the flames heighten, swirling upwards.

“I heard you mention this just now. Besides the investigation, you must have come to Evaeba for the temple as well, no? being a priestess of Miracles. I know what happened earlier in the day. That was not the usual Magic, but a Miracle.” The stranger states observantly, standing back up to turn to the pair, then he scratches the back of his head. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to pry. Just-…I could use a follower of the Lady Luck right now. I might need every luck I can get for this final task.”

Iacy gives the knight a silent nod of assurance before turning back to the stranger. “You brought up your task twice now. What is it about? If you wish for our assistance, we require elaboration. Clearly, you seem to be able to shed light on that scythe-wielding murderer. Worry not about the girl’s spirit, man with an axe, do you not agree she prefers closure on her passing? After your explanation, I will send her off in peace. Firstly, your name, man with an axe.”

The man in question sighs, slowly approaching the bonfire. “Well, you’re the priestess here; I’m sure you know what you’re doing. My name is Greufard, and I am a…wanderer on the hunt, let’s say. I’ve been tracking this killer for years now, and on several occasions have crossed blades with him. I hope that our next meeting might settle things, once and for all.” He pauses, the flames reflected in his eyes dancing in an almost-hollowed darkness.

“Personal things, I wager. Is this task assigned to you, Ser Greufard, or is it a quest for vengeance?” Iacy receives a look of shock from the man. “I assume that you saw what happened to that sphere of ash. According to that vision, the killer’s movements were aided by powerful magic. That weapon is part of that magic, I believe.” Her tone grows stern. “If you have encountered the killer in combat many times before, will you please share the information you’ve gathered? And do try not to hold anything back. It’d be immensely helpful. It’s the Lady Luck that gave us this meeting, for we wish to solve this case as you do, though maybe not with your vigour. After all, you did seek out our help. Well?”

They exchange long stares and a longer silence, as Greufard’s eyes dart away, unwilling to look too hard into the goddess’ gentle but piercingly unrelenting eyes. The knight decides to take an open stance by sitting down by the fire, cross-legged with his hands on his knees, his eyes now also a stage for dancing flames.

Greufard’s unshaven beard now comes into light as he turns back to the fire, his expression hardening. “He was just a regular person. I was too. We grew up together; his family took me in as their own. Three years ago, I was to wed his sister, dear Mercerice.” He shakes his head. “It was just one day. One day was all it took. We took a nap somewhere…I don’t remember, the three of us, but I woke up alone. I went back to a home all splattered in blood, but empty. No bodies. But I knew the dress Merice was wearing, and the anklet I gave her. All red now. But his clothes weren’t there.

“Some of the villagers survived, some didn’t even notice anything. I was told it was him; they all said he was as silent as a reaper, only muttering something after each kill. Something about power; no one is exactly sure, of course. If anyone had heard it proper, they’d have already died proper. I was filled with rage, confused and hopeless. Eventually, I picked up his trail and came close to putting him down. Close. I found him multiple times after that, usually after it was too late and he had taken another life, and always came very near to either killing him or dying myself. Apparently, he grows stronger with each kill, or something like that. That’s part of the magic you want to hear about.” He shifts in his stance, his shadows from the moons and the bonfire laid out around him. “I told this story only twice before, and sometimes I actually can’t believe that it’s not made up. He was just a regular person.”

The silence continues after his story. Iacy extends her hand out to the bonfire and chants, her whole body brimming with light for a moment, then she gestures for the knight to do the same and he does. Finally, she nods to Greufard, who hesitates but complies anyway. He flinches as soon as the heat starts to surge through him, but gradually relaxes. Though disoriented by what he just experienced, he resumes his stance and remains quiet, deep in contemplation.

“She who passes away so violently here in this very spot is now laid to rest, and with her farewell she gives us her blessing to conquer the darkness that unfortunately felled her, so no others would be similarly felled.” The bonfire dims and the flames dissipate. Iacy straightens herself. “Now that you are reinvigorated, are you soon embarking on his trail? I prefer that we leave immediately. Right now. That’d be best; to prevent any further innocent bloodshed.” She turns to the knight. “We shall prepare any necessities.” Then she faces back to Greufard. “And I didn’t forget: I am Aiva, and this is Diastre. Let’s take three hours, then we will meet at the citygates. Is that fine with you, Ser Greufard?”

The man slowly brings himself to nod, and they leave the well, the ominous presence finally extinguished. In its place is a tranquil atmosphere, featherly light and beaming with hope, the knight decides.