The night was already well underway, and the quarrel was over long enough for each to regret what one had said to the other. Still, the most striking thing was the stubbornness that each one showed in a fight. And this, even if the arguments of each were valid.
The freshly buried bodies seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, their souls joining the skies.
Although some did not believe that there could be anything after death, most believed that dead people who did not rest in peace could come back to torment the living. It was a kind of universal constant that regret was the most powerful driving force of all.
Perhaps it was the regret of not having been able to save his friend that had driven Ewan to be so hard on Wynblow.
Perhaps it was his regret over that stupid fight with the dragoness that prevented him from noticing the unusual movements of the shadows surrounding him. Nor even the gradually rising temperature in the vicinity, while the weather was rather cold at this time of the year.
He sighed heavily, looking at the two mounds of freshly dug ground. One good thing done, at least.
He was about to go back to Fusain, when the cracking of a wooden board caught his attention.
Was it an animal, or a person?
Cautiously, and with his dagger in hand, he approached the place from which the sound had come: the ruins of another house, just as burned as the other buildings surrounding it, but whose walls had held up a little better. Walls that now obstructed his view of a potential enemy.
The night had already been a disadvantage, not because of the dangers that could be encountered, but because of those who came to you knowingly. And something told Ewan that this night was not going to be any less dangerous; especially when it came to problems coming at you directly.
Moving slowly from the ruins, he walked in silence along one of the walls still standing, the stone turned as black as the remains of burned girders.
He had heard no movement from the animal or person who might be hiding just behind the wall he was walking along. But as a drop of sweat rolled from his forehead, he heard a small gasp.
No mistake. Someone - a human being - was standing there.
And in such circumstances, several thoughts crossed Ewan's mind.
Was it the culprit who had stayed behind? A looter? A survivor? Or worse, one of those humanoid races that loved war and carnage?
He took his dagger in hand, pulling it from its sheath. Mistakes weren't an option. It was either catch or be caught.
Finally reaching the edge of the wall, he tried to control his own breathing. Calm. It was necessary that he kept his calm.
And in a leap, he jumped to the other side of the wall, the blade of his dagger plunging forward.
But a few seconds later, he found himself suddenly stopping his weapon - barely, in fact - in front of something he would not have imagined seeing at all.
In front of him, huddled against the wall and hidden by blackened boards, stood a tiny girl.
She was covered in soot, and had scratches all over her body, but at least she didn't look badly hurt.
Two large eyes, purple like amethysts, trembled as they looked at him.
Quickly, Ewan put away his dagger, and showed both of his now empty hands to the little girl.
She couldn't have been more than 9 or 10 years old, and Ewan rarely spoke with the other residents when he visited, so he had absolutely no idea who she could be.
"Hey, it's okay," he said, still pointing to his hands. "I'm Ewan, a hunter. And you, what's your name? "
The little girl seemed to calm down a bit, perhaps reassured by the fact that she had a monster hunter in front of her, and nervously clutched her stained shirt with both small hands.
He finally lowered his hands, taking a closer look at the child.
She had short white hair - a color that was a characteristic of the inhabitants of this region - tied into two small pigtails on each side of her head, and was dressed in a long beige shirt that served as a dress. She was also barefoot, her toes blackened by contact with the ground and the charred remains littering it.
"Can you tell me your parents' names? " He asked.
The little girl didn't answer anything, and just glanced quickly to her right; to Ewan's left.
Two all too recognizable shapes were buried under some rubble.
He would have been better off not saying anything. What an idiot.
"I... I see... "He managed to say.
The little girl still didn't dare to move, despite the rising temperature, and Ewan felt that it was not a good idea to try to dislodge her from the place where she had huddled. He was afraid to frighten her too much by proceeding in this way, and went out of the ruins of the building, thus decided to linger to fulfill another task.
Taking a large stone, he began to do what he had done a few minutes earlier: he dug into the ground. The earth was still relatively loose and easy to dig in, although Ewan suspected that what he was digging in was more ash that had accumulated than real soil.
Then, a good half hour later, a good-sized hole had appeared in front of the young man.
The temperature had risen again during this time, and he was now dripping with perspiration.
It was really strange, that the temperature was increasing so much, while the dawn was still far ahead. Ewan felt an uneasiness coming over him. Maybe he should have listened to Wynblow after all.
He returned to the ruins, and under the inquisitive eyes of the little girl, removed the two new bodies, before carrying them to the newly dug hole.
He tried not to show his discomfort, as the skin cracked and crunched under his fingers, and at times detached from the rest of the body in small patches.
Then, the bodies finally placed in the hole, he began to cover them with soil, and felt a look on him.
He raised his head towards the ruins, and saw that the little girl was looking at him, hidden behind the wall and letting only her face and her pudgy fingers - sign that she was still a young child - protrude from the edge.
Smiling awkwardly, he went back to filling in the hole; focused on his task, but still alert to his surroundings.
A few more shovelfuls, and the unknown couple could finally rest in the ground. Ewan was not surprised to feel the presence of the little girl at his side, whom he had observed from the corner of his eye coming closer and closer to him, as he tossed more scoops of soil.
"Do you know why people need to be put in the ground? " He asked without looking at her, his eyes fixed on the single mound of dirt in front of him.
The little girl didn't answer anything, and he thought that perhaps the question was a little too hard for a child her age.
"We have to put our loved ones in the ground so that they don't stay there," he explained. "Not out of fear that they will haunt us, far from it.... "
He turned his head to his left, and saw that the little girl was silently crying, sniffling and wiping her already dirty face with her hands. He couldn't blame her. Surely this had all been too sudden for her.
"We put people in the ground so they can become one with nature again, and take our regrets with them." He continued. "That way, our sadness fades with time. And they can go away with a lighter spirit, knowing that we won't be sad anymore thinking about them."
The little girl sniffed loudly. Perhaps she hadn't heard him after all. But he was reassured to see that she could still communicate her emotions, and wasn't completely closed off. Surely he could take her with him without her resisting.
Because given the dangerous situation they were in now, he wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.
The strange sensation of danger, growing with the passing of time, had begun to seriously make Ewan uncomfortable.
The temperature increasing abnormally.
He looked for Fusain. Even he had fallen silent, with a frightened look and exorbited eyes twitching in all directions.
Okay. He wasn't that far away. And if the girl cooperated, they would be out of here soon enough.
He took her by the hand, and started walking.