"If you need backup, I can send several knights with you," Mr. Alex offered again, but I gave a gentle smile and shook my head. "There's no need for that, Mr. Alex. I'm sure I'll be able to handle that thing on my own. From your description, I already have an idea of what it might be. Now, I just want to witness it with my own eyes."
Mr. Alex nodded, though there was still concern etched into his features. With a final smile, he headed off to his room for the night, leaving me to my own thoughts. I made my way to my room and shut the door behind me, immediately sensing something was off.
As soon as I stepped inside, a strange aroma filled the air, instantly hitting me. It was familiar—but not in a pleasant way. My gaze scanned the room, but everything appeared as it was. The scent, however, had taken over the entire space. It was nauseating, something sour and unsettling. It only meant one thing: someone had been here while I was away.
I stood still for a moment, my mind racing. Of the four people who lived here, three were downstairs earlier—Mr. Alex, his servant, and the maid. The only other person was Elizabeth. My mind hesitated to think it, but I couldn't ignore the facts.
"Elizabeth?" I muttered under my breath. No, she couldn't have done this. My heart resisted the thought, but my instincts told me not to trust anyone just yet.
I took a deep breath and stepped out of my room, glancing around. The house was unnervingly silent, as if I were the only one awake. I carefully moved down the hallway and stopped outside Elizabeth's room. My nerves were on edge, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. I raised my hand to open the door but stopped myself. What excuse would I have if someone was inside, if the maid was there asleep? I sighed in frustration, not knowing how to proceed.
Just as I turned to leave, I heard the faint creak of a door opening. My instincts kicked in, and I quickly pressed myself against the wall, staying out of sight. Peeking around the corner, I saw the girl who had been downstairs with us earlier. She stepped out of the room with a cloth in her hand, moving quietly as if she didn't want anyone to notice her.
As I watched the girl disappear into the shadows, I realized her name was Kazian—the deaf girl. Something about her seemed off, but I decided not to jump to conclusions. I took one last glance around the hallway and approached her room. Slowly, I slid her door open just a crack, enough to peer inside. Elizabeth was there, blissfully asleep, completely unaware of the strange happenings around her.
Satisfied that she was unharmed, I quickly closed the door and made my way back to my room. A deep sigh escaped me as I entered.
I came here to hunt a monster, I thought to myself. But instead, I'm left suspecting the very people who sought my help. Whatever was going on, I would find out later. It didn't matter who had been snooping in my room or what they were after—my mission remained unchanged.
I walked over to the window and pushed it open. The salty breeze from the sea rushed in, and I gazed out at the calm waters. The beach stretched out below me, peaceful and serene, with the waves crashing softly against the rocks in a rhythmic dance. For a moment, it was almost too quiet.
Suddenly, I heard, Hawki. He swooped in from the dark sky, perched on a nearby tree, and let out a few sharp cries.
"Kack-kack." His warning was subtle but clear. Hawki was always on alert, especially when something was near.
I scanned the area with a serious expression. If Hawki noticed anything unusual, I'd know right away. But for now, the night seemed still. I moved away from the window and sat down on the bed, eyes drifting back to the table.
I had completely forgotten about the drink Mr. Alex had provided earlier. I picked up the mug, but as soon as I glanced inside, I frowned. There was an insect floating in the liquid. Disgusted, I narrowed my eyes and walked back to the window, tossing the drink out with a flick of my wrist.
Returning to the bed, I placed the mug back on the table.
**
Wyiner paced the room, his mind clouded with unease. "Did you send the letter?" he asked Yean.
"Yes, my lord," Yean responded swiftly. He hesitated before asking, "Do you think Maxilin has already reached Alex's house?"
Wyiner shook his head. "No. If he had, Alex would have sent a letter by now."
As if on cue, a knock came at the door. A knight stepped in, bowing slightly before saying, "My lord, the Father from the church requests to meet you."
Wyiner's brow furrowed at the mention of the priest. Why is he here? he wondered. The priest rarely visited unless something urgent required his attention. This can't be good.
He nodded to the knight, gesturing for the priest to be let in.
"Bring him in," Wyiner ordered, though a sense of dread settled in his chest. He always felt on edge when the priest appeared. The Father was known for knowing things—things Wyiner would have preferred to keep hidden.
The door opened again, and the priest stepped inside. Dressed in his dark, simple robes, a rosary hanging loosely from his wrist, the Father's face bore its usual calm, but his eyes seemed to hold something more.
"Hello, Father," Wyiner greeted, his eyes fixed on the priest while his thumbs tapped nervously together. The unexpected visit had his mind racing. Why is he here? he wondered. What exactly does he want? Did my brother send him?
Father Mac moved with his usual calm demeanor, taking a seat across from Wyiner. As always, he placed his rosary carefully on the table, the soft clink of the beads breaking the silence. "You haven't been to church in a week, my child," the priest said gently, his eyes searching Wyiner's face. "So, I've come to visit you. Are you all right?"
Wyiner forced a small smile. "Yes, Father, I'm fine. I apologize for not attending. I've been busy with important matters."
Mac returned the smile, though it was clear his visit wasn't just about Wyiner's absence from church. He didn't inquire further about those matters. Instead, he got straight to the point. "What happened to Maxilin? Is he all right?"
Wyiner's fingers stopped tapping.
Of course, he thought. He's here for Maxilin.
Mac always seemed to know more than he let on.
"Maxilin isn't here, Father," Wyiner said, trying to keep his voice steady. He knew the priest likely had suspicions.
"And where is he?" Mac pressed, his voice soft but persistent.
"It's a top-secret mission, Father. I'm sorry, but I can't tell you," Wyiner responded directly, his gaze steady. There was no point in pretending or dodging the question.
"I know you're a leader, Wyiner, and you always consider the consequences of your actions," Mac said, his voice calm but piercing. "I have no doubts about your decisions. But is it really wise to leave him there alone?"
Wyiner picked up his calligraphy pen, the scratch of the nib filling the silence as he scribbled absentmindedly on a piece of paper. "Maxilin is no longer a child," he said after a pause. "He's an adult now, capable of making his own decisions. We can't lock him away forever. This is his path, Father. This is his truth," he repeated, a hint of finality in his voice. "Let him find it."
Mac studied Wyiner for a moment, then smiled gently. He reached for his rosary, the familiar weight of the beads in his hand. "You're right," he admitted, his voice soft but tinged with something unspoken. "But the pursuit of truth is often dangerous. It has claimed many lives before. And it might claim his too."
Wyiner stopped writing but didn't look up. He could feel the weight of the Father's words sinking in. But still, he believed in what he said. Maxilin's path was his own, and no one, not even Wyiner, could shield him from that.
Mac stood, the soft creak of the chair echoing in the quiet room. "I only hope the cost of this truth isn't more than he can bear," the priest said as he made his way toward the door. "But sometimes, to gain something, we must lose something first," he added, his voice a final whisper before he disappeared from view.
Wyiner put down his pen and gazed at the space where the Father had stood moments ago. Perhaps he's right, Wyiner thought. But sacrifices must be made. And sometimes, the truth is worth the risk.