Nico stirred awake, sunlight streaming through the window and warming his face. He blinked against the brightness, heart still heavy with concern for Hab. The empty space beside him felt like a void in the quiet room.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, feet finding the cool wooden floor. The house creaked softly as he stood, stretching to shake off sleep. Each breath brought back memories of yesterday—the thrill of discovery with Elrid and the sudden rush of fear from the fireflies.
After washing up and preparing for the day, Nico donned his leather vest, feeling its familiar weight settle comfortably on his shoulders. He glanced at the small wooden box containing moss samples sitting on the table before heading out.
Outside, the village bustled with morning energy. Farmers chatted about their crops while children dashed between stalls. Nico's stomach twisted at the sight; he needed answers about Hab.
He made his way toward Elsid's home, determination guiding each step. The village chief's place loomed ahead—a sturdy structure surrounded by neatly trimmed hedges and flourishing plants. Nico knocked at the door, heart pounding as anticipation built.
"Come in!" Elsid's voice boomed from inside.
Nico pushed open the door to find Elsid hunched over a table littered with maps and parchment. The scent of ink mixed with fresh bread wafted through the air as Elsid glanced up, brow furrowed with concentration.
"Ah, young Nico!" Elsid greeted warmly but then noticed Nico's somber expression. "What brings you here so early?"
"Have you seen Hab?" Nico asked, keeping his tone steady despite a flutter of anxiety within him.
Elsid set down a quill and leaned back in his chair, regarding Nico carefully. "No" he replied slowly. "But I've been meaning to speak with you about him."
"What do you mean?" Nico pressed, leaning closer as hope flickered like a candle flame.
Elsid sighed deeply before continuing, eyes narrowing slightly as he chose his words carefully. "It's best we sit down for this conversation."
Nico followed Elsid to a sturdy wooden table in the center of the room. He settled into a chair, the rough surface cool beneath his palms as he tried to steady his racing heart.
"Before I left for the regional capital," Elsid began, leaning forward, "he met with me to discuss the village's wares. He seemed... resolute, more than usual."
Nico felt a flicker of relief. Hab often ventured to the capital, but something in Elsid's tone made him uneasy.
"He wanted to ensure you'd be taken care of while he was away," Elsid continued, folding his hands together. "He told me not to worry about him. Said everything he was doing was for you."
Nico's brow furrowed at those words. The weight of worry clung to him like fog, and he wrestled with thoughts of what could have kept Hab away longer than expected.
"Hab's always been driven by love for you," Elsid added, sensing Nico's inner turmoil. "You know how much he values your training and your future."
"I do." Nico nodded slowly, though uncertainty lingered like an uninvited guest. "But what if something happened? What if he—"
"Enough." Elsid interrupted firmly but kindly. "Don't let fear take root in your heart. Hab has faced far worse." He softened his gaze. "He trusts you're capable enough to carry on here in his absence."
The reassurance settled over Nico like a warm blanket, yet doubt still crept in at the edges of his mind.
"Besides," Elsid added with a small smile, "I'll be here if you need anything while he's gone. We can keep each other company."
"Thanks," Nico replied, feeling gratitude swell within him despite lingering concerns.
Elsid leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as if preparing for a deeper conversation. "You've come a long way since I first met you—stronger than I ever imagined."
Nico felt pride well up inside him at the acknowledgment but pushed it down; there was still so much to learn and accomplish.
Elsid continued, his voice dropping to an almost conspiratorial whisper. "There's more happening in this village than meets the eye…"
Nico watched Elsid's eyes twinkle with mischief as he leaned closer. "You know, there've been rumors about werewolves prowling these woods. I hear they gobble up young lads like you in a single bite!"
Nico rolled his eyes, a half-smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Come on, Elsid. Werewolves? Really?"
"Oh, I assure you, it's true!" Elsid chuckled, unable to contain himself. "Better keep your shortsword sharp and those arrows ready; you wouldn't want to become their midday snack!"
"Right." Nico smirked, shaking his head as he pushed back from the table. He stood and brushed off his vest as if shaking off the ridiculousness of Elsid's tales.
"I'll be sure to pack some extra snacks just in case," he shot back before making his way to the door.
"Just don't say I didn't warn you!" Elsid called after him, laughter echoing in the room.
Outside, Nico breathed in the fresh air that filled his lungs like a balm. The village bustled around him; merchants shouted from their stalls while children played in the streets. His heart thrummed with anticipation for the training ahead. Pilos awaited him at the training grounds—his experience promising to refine Nico's skills for the hunt.
Nico made his way down the path lined with wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze. Each step fueled his eagerness to prove himself capable, not just of handling a bow but of facing whatever lay ahead during their next expedition.
Upon reaching the training grounds, he spotted Pilos practicing archery under an ancient oak tree, arrows flying straight and true toward a weathered target.
"Hey!" Nico called out as he approached, determination pulsing through him.
Pilos turned, a broad grin breaking across his face. "Nico! You're right on time! Ready for another round?"
"Absolutely," Nico replied, excitement bubbling within him. "I need to sharpen my skills before we head out."
Pilos nodded approvingly and gestured toward a nearby target post where fresh arrows lay waiting. "Then let's get started."
With renewed focus, Nico joined Pilos by the targets as they began their training session under the sun-drenched sky. The world around them faded away, leaving only the rhythm of their breaths and the sound of arrows slicing through air—a promise of what was yet to come on their next hunt.
Nico wiped the sweat from his brow as he lowered his bow, panting heavily. The sun dipped toward the horizon, casting a golden hue over the training grounds. Pilos stood nearby, arms crossed, breathing hard as well. Today's session had been grueling, and Nico could feel the burn in his muscles.
"Good work today," Pilos said, though he didn't sound entirely sincere. He had spent more time practicing his own form than teaching Nico the nuances of archery.
"Yeah, sure," Nico replied, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. "Next time, maybe you could actually teach me something?"
Pilos chuckled, running a hand through his sweat-drenched hair. "Can't teach if I don't practice myself! Besides, you're coming along just fine."
As they collected their arrows from the targets, Pilos casually tossed out a comment that caught Nico off guard. "My dad brought home this gigantic wolf pelt when he got back from his trip."
Nico froze mid-reach for an arrow, eyes widening in disbelief. "Wait—was it a werewolf?"
Pilos stopped and stared at him for a moment, laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. "Werewolves? Seriously? Come on, Nico! Those are just fairy tales to scare kids!"
Nico felt heat creep up his neck, embarrassment prickling under his skin. He opened his mouth to respond but couldn't find the words; Pilos's laughter echoed in his ears.
"Really?" Nico finally managed to say after a beat, voice wavering slightly. "I thought—"
"Thought what?" Pilos interrupted between chuckles. "That there's some half-wolf monster lurking around waiting to eat us? It's just a wolf pelt! A big one at that."
"Yeah," Nico replied slowly as he resumed gathering arrows from the ground. A small part of him felt foolish for letting such stories rattle him.
"I mean," Pilos continued with an exaggerated tone of seriousness while wiping sweat from his brow, "if there were werewolves roaming about, do you think my dad would've gone after one without bringing back some sort of proof?"
Nico shook his head with a half-smile creeping onto his face despite himself. The tension began to dissolve as they both shared a laugh over the absurdity of it all.
Still feeling slightly unsettled by the thought of creatures lurking in the woods, he glanced toward the trees bordering their training area. The shadows lengthened with twilight creeping in around them—a reminder that darkness always lingered at the edges of their world.
Pilos noticed Nico's distracted gaze and nudged him playfully with an elbow. "Don't go getting paranoid on me now! Let's just get back home and enjoy some stew."
Nico and Pilos gathered the last of the arrows, the light fading into a soft orange glow. As they walked back toward the village, Nico still felt a lingering sense of unease. The stories of werewolves and dark creatures haunted his thoughts, twisting like shadows in the evening light.
"Hey," Pilos began, sensing Nico's tension. "You know about those wolf rumors? They're probably just leftovers from some wizard's failed experiments."
"Experiments?" Nico echoed, eyebrows raised. He shifted his grip on the quiver slung across his shoulder.
"Yeah," Pilos continued, gesturing animatedly as they strolled. "Back before The Severance, wizards used to mess around with all kinds of creatures—trying to create something powerful. Most of their experiments didn't work out, so they just abandoned them."
Nico listened intently, curiosity sparking within him. "So what happened to those experiments?"
"Well," Pilos said with a smirk, "the strongest ones got hunted down during the Old Gods' reign—everyone wanted to eliminate anything that could threaten them. But those weaker ones? They managed to survive somehow." He chuckled lightly, but Nico sensed an undercurrent of seriousness.
"They still breed and pass down their genes," Pilos explained. "That's why sometimes you'll find a wild creature that's bigger or faster than it should be. It's like they carry remnants of whatever magic those old wizards tried to tap into."
Nico furrowed his brow as he processed this new information. "So you're saying there could be creatures out there with strange abilities?"
"Exactly!" Pilos replied enthusiastically, eyes gleaming with excitement. "It's rare but not unheard of. Like some wolves out in the woods—they might be just regular wolves but with a touch of something extra from those experiments."
The notion fascinated Nico despite himself. Creatures lurking in the woods sounded both thrilling and dangerous; he could hardly suppress a shiver at the thought.
"But they're exceedingly rare, my fathers only seen a couple as a young man." Pilos reassured him as they reached the edge of the village where torches flickered to life against the gathering dusk. "You shouldn't worry too much about it."
As they stepped into the welcoming glow of lights spilling from homes and shops, Nico couldn't shake off that curious feeling inside him—a blend of intrigue and caution about what lay beyond familiar paths and what had been left behind in history's shadowy corners.
Nico stepped through the door of his home, the familiar scent of hay and earth grounding him as he closed it behind him. The sounds of laughter and chatter from the village faded away, leaving a stillness that settled over him like a heavy blanket. He inhaled deeply, allowing the comforting atmosphere to wash over him.
The day's training with Pilos lingered in his mind, a whirlwind of arrows flying through the air. Despite their laughter, Nico couldn't shake off the gnawing feeling that he had stumbled upon something greater than mere tales. Shadows danced at the edges of his thoughts, and he felt compelled to push beyond them.
He made his way to the small corner where he practiced meditation. The space felt sacred—a refuge where distractions melted away into silence. Kneeling on the rough wooden floor, he took a moment to collect himself. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing in rhythm with the pulse of life around him.
As Nico settled into meditation, he concentrated on harnessing his earth energy—firm and grounding but also heavy and stubborn. His thoughts drifted back to Pilos's words about precision; Nico needed to hold that piercing mind state when aiming at targets. The image of an arrow flying true ignited a fire within him.
He pictured himself drawing back the bowstring, focusing solely on the target ahead. In that moment, everything else faded away—the rustling leaves outside, even the weight of his earth energy became an afterthought. Instead, all that remained was clarity and intention.
"Focus," he whispered to himself as if breaking through an invisible barrier.
With each breath, Nico delved deeper into that meditative state, feeling layers of tension peel away like bark from a tree. Yet still, shadows tugged at his concentration—the nagging sense that something held him back from reaching full potential.
Frustration bubbled beneath the surface as thoughts flitted through his mind like startled birds—doubts about whether he'd ever master this technique swirled around him.
"No," he muttered under his breath. "I can do this."
Determined to pierce through those doubts like arrows aimed at their mark, Nico drew upon memories of Hab's teachings: patience in struggle, strength in vulnerability. He envisioned redirecting those arrows not just physically but mentally as well; all he needed was unwavering focus.
Nico steadied his breath again, willing every part of himself into that piercing mind state—a beacon shining against the darkness holding him back.
Nico sat in the dim light of his meditation space, the weight of hours pressing down around him. He opened his eyes, blinking away the lingering remnants of his focused state. The familiar walls seemed more vibrant now, colors brighter and shapes clearer. Each breath filled him with a sense of accomplishment. He could slip into that piercing state with increasing ease—though not yet ready for combat, it felt tantalizingly close.
Excitement bubbled within him as he considered how far he had come. Just weeks ago, finding that focus had felt nearly impossible, like chasing shadows in the dark. But now, the breakthrough loomed on the horizon—a beginner's state where all techniques could flow seamlessly together in battle.
Yet another thought crept in to douse some of that enthusiasm: his swordplay lagged behind his archery skills. Nico rubbed a hand across his forehead, frustration twisting like a knot in his gut. Pilos had pushed him relentlessly with weighted arrows; each miss stung fiercely against his shield and rattled his confidence. But with every session, those moments had only sharpened his focus.
"Why am I not improving as quickly?" he muttered to himself.
The reality gnawed at him—his swordsmanship felt stagnant compared to the fluidity he was achieving with the bow.
"What if Garrick could help?" Nico mused aloud, glancing toward the door as if expecting an answer from thin air. "He's still a first-rank knight."
Garrick might have traded swords for hammers long ago, but those skills remained buried beneath layers of soot and muscle memory. Perhaps working with Garrick would yield insights into swordplay that Nico desperately needed—techniques refined by years of practice, waiting to be unlocked through proper training.
The thought ignited another spark of determination within him. "I'll ask him tomorrow," he resolved quietly. Tomorrow would bring fresh challenges and opportunities to blend what he learned into something greater.
With a final deep breath, Nico settled back into meditation again, ready to refine his focus even further before surrendering to the night's embrace.
A sharp knock broke the silence, echoing through Nico's small home. He blinked, drawn from his meditative state, and stood up. Curiosity flared as he approached the door, wiping his palms against his trousers to rid them of lingering tension.
As he opened the door, he found Elrid standing there, breathless and slightly disheveled. The scholar's face lit up with a mix of relief and excitement.
"Nico! There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you." Elrid's eyes sparkled with urgency as he stepped inside without waiting for an invitation.
Nico felt a rush of guilt wash over him. "Oh no! I forgot to give you the moss!" His voice trailed off, remembering their earlier conversation about the rare herbs. He motioned for Elrid to enter fully before reaching into a small box on the table.
"I'm really sorry about that," Nico said as he opened the box and revealed its contents—a neat bundle of freshly gathered moss nestled within. "Here it is."
Elrid's eyes widened with delight as he leaned closer to examine it. "This is perfect! I needed this for my research on herbal properties," he exclaimed, his hands reaching out eagerly. "I was starting to think I'd have to hunt down more myself."
Nico chuckled softly, relief mingling with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to hold you up."
Elrid shook his head, waving away Nico's concern as if it were a pesky fly. "No worries! You're always so busy training; I figured you'd be in your own world." He accepted the box from Nico's hands, cradling it like a prized possession.
"Come in and sit for a moment," Nico offered, stepping back and gesturing toward the modest table where they could share thoughts over their finds.
Elrid glanced around with interest as he settled onto a chair. "You've made quite the cozy space here," he remarked, eyes darting between scattered scrolls and herbs drying by the window.
Nico shrugged but felt warmth bloom in his chest at Elrid's words. He appreciated having company again; it had been too long since laughter filled these walls.
"I'm glad you found me," Nico said sincerely as he took a seat across from him, ready to engage in conversation about their shared passions and aspirations.