Chapter 11: A Flicker of Truth
The small town at the edge of the forest buzzed with activity, its narrow streets lined with wooden stalls and stone buildings. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the scent of roasted meats mixed with the earthy aroma of freshly harvested vegetables. Rylan's stomach growled as he stepped into the bustling square, the bird perched alertly on his shoulder.
No one spared him more than a passing glance, their attention fixed on their own affairs. He was glad for the anonymity; after everything in the forest, blending in felt like a relief.
"We need supplies," Rylan murmured, shifting his bag on his shoulder. "And maybe someone who knows what these things mean."
The bird chirped softly, its golden eye scanning the crowd.
Rylan approached a stall overflowing with dried meats and bread. The merchant, a stocky man with a thick beard, eyed him with a mix of suspicion and indifference.
"You buying or browsing?" the merchant grunted.
Rylan fished a few coins from his pouch. "Buying. I'll take some of the dried meat and bread."
The merchant tossed a bundle onto the counter. "Five coins."
Rylan hesitated, feeling the weight of his dwindling funds. He handed over the money, leaving only a couple of coins in his pouch. As the merchant turned away, Rylan caught sight of a symbol etched into the side of the man's stall—a faint rune, similar to the ones on the collar and dagger.
"Where did you get that mark?" Rylan asked, pointing to the carving.
The merchant frowned. "What's it to you?"
"Just curious," Rylan said quickly, trying to sound casual.
The merchant's frown deepened, but before he could answer, a voice cut through the noise of the square.
"You'll want to take that question to the archives."
Rylan turned to see a woman leaning against a nearby post, her arms crossed. She wore a dark green cloak that flowed around her like mist, and her piercing gray eyes seemed to size him up in an instant.
"The archives?" Rylan asked.
The woman nodded. "If you're asking about runes, they'll have your answers. Assuming you can pay the price."
Rylan's brow furrowed. "What kind of price?"
"Knowledge always comes at a cost," she said cryptically, pushing off the post. "But if you're serious, follow me."
Rylan hesitated, glancing at the bird. It chirped softly, as if urging him forward. With a sigh, he adjusted his bag and followed the woman through the maze of streets.
She led him to a low stone building on the outskirts of the town, its entrance guarded by a heavy wooden door reinforced with iron bands. The woman pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit interior filled with rows of shelves packed with scrolls, books, and artifacts. The air smelled of parchment and dust, and the flickering light of a single lantern cast eerie shadows across the room.
"Impressive," Rylan muttered.
The woman smirked. "The archives hold centuries of knowledge—if you know where to look."
She gestured for him to follow and led him to a small table in the corner. Sitting behind it was an older man, his face hidden behind thick glasses that magnified his eyes comically. He looked up as they approached, his expression shifting from annoyance to curiosity.
"What do you want?" he asked, his voice sharp.
"This one's asking about runes," the woman said, nodding toward Rylan.
The man's eyes flicked to the bird on Rylan's shoulder, then back to him. "Interesting. Let's see what you've got."
Rylan reached into his bag and pulled out the metal collar and dagger, placing them carefully on the table. The man leaned forward, adjusting his glasses as he examined them.
"These aren't ordinary items," the man said after a moment. "Where did you find them?"
"They… came to me," Rylan said vaguely. He wasn't sure he trusted this man—or the woman—with the full truth.
The man didn't press further. He tapped a finger on the collar, tracing the runes. "This is ancient craftsmanship, tied to a practice we haven't seen in generations. Taming through domination."
"Domination?" Rylan asked, frowning.
The man nodded grimly. "Most tamers bond with beasts through mutual respect, building trust and partnership. But there are those who take a darker path—forcing beasts into servitude through fear and pain. These runes are part of that method."
Rylan's stomach churned as he looked at the collar. "Who would do that?"
"Anyone who seeks power at any cost," the man said, his voice cold. "These tools are relics from a forgotten war, where tamers used dominated beasts to wreak havoc. Most were destroyed, but it seems some have survived."
Rylan exchanged a glance with the bird, whose feathers bristled. "And the dagger?"
"Much the same," the man said. "A tool designed for control. These runes bind a beast's will, making it incapable of resisting commands."
Rylan's grip tightened on the table. The thought of forcing a creature into submission like that made his skin crawl. "Why would someone attack me for these?"
The man shrugged. "There are those who still seek these relics, hoping to revive the old ways. If you've crossed paths with them, you'll want to be careful."
"Careful doesn't cut it," the woman said, leaning against a nearby shelf. "If they've marked you, they won't stop until they get what they want."
Rylan's jaw tightened. He didn't know who these people were, but he wasn't about to let them take what little he had—especially not his bird.
"What do I do?" he asked.
The man leaned back, folding his hands. "The same thing anyone in your position would do. Run, hide, or fight. The choice is yours."
Rylan stood, sliding the collar and dagger back into his bag. His heart pounded as he considered the man's words, but one thought rose above the rest: He couldn't run, and he wouldn't hide.
He glanced at the bird, who chirped softly, its golden eye gleaming with determination.
"We'll fight," Rylan said firmly. "Whatever it takes."
The man raised an eyebrow but said nothing. The woman smirked, stepping closer. "Then you'd better be ready. Because once you take this path, there's no going back."
Rylan met her gaze, his resolve hardening. "We're already on it."
End of Chapter 11