Drax was looking through a parchment when the door opened and Letto backed into the room.

  “Have you seen Anita today?” Letto bumped into the table just next to the door and frowned down at it with exaggerated annoyance. “Who the hell keeps a table next to their door?”

  He shot Drax an annoyed glare before suddenly deflating. It seemed the day was getting to him. An accumulation of different varieties of annoying happenings could lead to an explosion from something insignificant. For instance, a table doing nothing more than being a table.

  Drax dropped the parchment he’d been reading on the bed next to him. “Why are we looking for Anita?”

  “She owes me a gold coin.” Letto turned and flopped down onto the bed. He had wrinkle lines on his forehead, most likely from frowning too much all day.

  Drax wanted to reach across and smoothen them the way he often did for his younger brother when they’d still been on earth. He stopped himself when his hand came up.

  “You’re stressed about Anita because she owes you a gold coin?” Drax asked, just to be sure he wasn’t missing something.

  Letto looked up at him, frowning. “It’s a gold coin.”

  “And that’s what you have on your mind. Not the fact that a goblin vanished into thin air right in front of us last night.”

  Letto shrugged, nonchalant. “It was the middle of the night. It was dark. I’m sure there’s a healthy explanation for what happened.”

  Drax shook his head in disagreement. “When we got back, I looked through Sir Thomper’s bestiary. There are no goblins of any kind capable of disappearing magic.”

  “Then we were seeing something.”

  “My point exactly.” Drax adjusted on his bed so that he leaned over Letto.

  Their eyes met and Letto grumbled. “You’re too close, D.”

  A small line formed between Drax’s brows. “That’s not what’s important right now. I’m saying that a goblin should not have the power to disappear.”

  “It was dark.” Letto turned and lay on his side. “We were seeing things.”

  “My perception stat is at nine, Letto. I wasn’t seeing things.”

  Letto snorted in amusement. “Just nine.”

  “You have the [Rogue] class, what’s yours?” Drax retorted, knowing it would be higher than his.

  “Twelve,” Letto said easily. “And I’ve only added two points to it.”

  “So it’s a natural growth.” Drax smiled because he was about to use that to prove his point. “So would you say that you were seeing things?”

  Letto opened his mouth to reply and paused. He ran a hand down his face and sat up. “Good point.”

  “So you saw it disappear, too.”

  Letto scratched his head. “I don’t know what I saw, Drax. Yes, I saw it disappear, but I also know that goblins don’t disappear.”

  “Then what’s your explanation for it?”

  “We were seeing things?” Letto shrugged, noncommittedly.

  Drax’s raised his brows. “And you’re okay with that?”

  Letto turned contemplative. It was clear that he was not okay with it. Now that he had pointed it out, his friend was getting worried by it.

  Drax couldn’t blame Letto. He had the [Knight] class and he was annoyed that someone was telling him that he was seeing things. He could only imagine how a [Rogue] with higher perception would feel if their eyesight was being called into question.

  “I say we go back to the place and check it out,” he suggested.

  “I’m more interested in where the hell Anita’s gone.” Letto flopped back on the bed. “I’ve checked all over town.”

  That was a bit surprising because the town wasn’t a big town. It didn’t even have a name.

  “I take it you’ve checked in her room,” he said hesitantly.

  Letto gave him a side glance. “I did not check the very first place she was supposed to be,” he said sarcastically.

  There was a depth to the sarcasm that made Drax wonder if it was all about a gold coin. The look of slight annoyance on Letto’s face left him not asking. Besides, they had more important things to deal with like the fact that a goblin was disappearing into thin air.

  Both remained in silence for a while. Drax picked up the parchment he’d left on the bed and continued reading. It was a short excerpt of a [Swordsman] and how he’d grown his class into something powerful. This section talked about how to increase a specific technique called [Cleft].

  Letto looked over his head. “What are you reading?”

  “Sword techniques.” Drax didn’t look up from the parchment. “It’s supposed to be able to cut a boulder in two even if you aren’t strong enough normally.”

  Letto returned his attention to the ceiling above. “What’s it called?”

  “[Cleft].”

  Letto laughed a little. “Dude must have been terrible at naming things.”

  Drax shrugged. He could not argue that. The entire parchment was filled with the simplest lexicon of the kingdom’s language. A part of him believed the man wasn’t the most literate of people.

  Letto let out a heavy sigh. Drax moved his eyes from the parchment to look at him. Whenever Letto sighed like this, Drax knew what was coming next.

  “Ever wonder what Aiden’s doing right now?”

  Drax shook his head. “Nope.”

  It was a lie. Every now and again, he wondered if Aiden was fine. Before their trip, looking out for his friend, he’d asked for an audience with the king. It had been granted, and he’d asked of Aiden.

  All the king had said was that Aiden was fine. Apparently, there was a situation in a different city that was going to be beneficial for him.

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” he told Letto. “If Ted isn’t worried, I don’t think we should be.”

  That was what Drax told himself, but he’d pleaded with one of the knights to keep him updated on anything on the subject of Aiden. He’d even asked for updates on the other team since they’d fought in the mock battle since they’d been sent to a different destination.

  From what he’d heard, they’d been sent to some forest to the south of the kingdom. Their task was to subjugate the monsters in the forest with the help of four other knights. Meanwhile they were cleaning out monsters because of reports of missing tourists in the city.

  Unlike the other team, theirs required more intellect and less muscle brain. So, in the beginning they’d asked questions. With the authority of the king in the existence of the knight with them, the town chief had given them answers.

  What happened to the tourists? They always went on their way after two to three days.

  Where did they stay? Different inns, scattered between the only three inns in the town.

  Was there anything off about them? Nothing really. Tourists that came by were always of varying classes.

  The last tourist to go missing before they’d been sent had been the cousin of some lord of the land. Drax had done his best to look past the nepotism. A relative of a noble had to be in trouble before they’d given the reports the necessary attention needed.

  As for the noble’s relative, this was the inn she’d stayed in. So, everyone had scattered. Drax, Letto and Anita stayed in this inn. Sam and Ariadne stayed in another.

  Ted stayed alone.

  Drax noticed after a while that Letto had not responded to him. When he looked at his friend, Letto had a frown on his face.

  “You good?” he asked.

  Letto shook his head. “Why isn’t Ted worried? They’re brothers.”

  “They weren’t really that close back on Earth if I remember correctly,” Drax offered amiably, trying not to sound like he was gossiping. “There was also the thing with his ex, Tasha.”

  Letto’s frown morphed into a scowl at the mention of Aiden’s ex.

  “I never liked that girl,” Letto informed him as if he was talking about snakes. “She was always a little too friendly, always making sure that she was his only friend.”

  Drax sighed. “She wasn’t making sure she was his only friend. She was his only friend. And Aiden always seemed more than happy to have her as his only friend. You know we invited him to hang out with us a few times. He always wanted to go with her.”

  In the beginning Drax hadn’t seen an issue with it. Then he’d started to think Aiden was a little too obsessed with his ex. It all made sense to him when he’d found out how long they’d been friends for.

  When friends as close as they had been started dating, they tended to be attached at the hip. Aiden and Tasha’s closeness had only been natural.

  “But they’ve been closer since we got here,” Letto argued. “You’d think he’d be worried instead of flirting with Ariadne all the time.”

  “Letto,” Drax said, treading carefully. “Are you sure you’re not the one who’s overly worried about Aiden? I spoke to the king before we came here and he said that he’s fine.”

  Letto got up from the bed and adjusted his wrinkled shirt. It was brown, like mud. It was also ugly to look at. Drax could not understand why Letto was wearing it.

  “We’re going to find Anita,” Letto announced.

  Drax lowered the parchment, fighting the sigh that bubbled inside him. Letto, as timid as he could be, was often always full of life. Often suddenly bubbly.

  “And where,” he began, setting the parchment aside, “are we going to be looking for her?”

  “We’ll start with the mayor.”

  “Town chief,” Drax corrected. The man, who looked like a body builder, had been more than insistent that he be called the town chief and not anything else.

  “We’ll have a quick chat with him,” Letto continued. “See if there’s anything amiss, maybe something new. For all we know she could’ve stepped out of town.”

  “If she did, she would’ve told Sir Thompfer.” Drax wrapped the parchment up very carefully. He picked up the ribbon that kept it in place and tied the parchment so that it remained rolled up. “And if the town chief knows nothing?”

  “Then we go back to the forest,” Letto answered.

  Drax did not like the idea at all. Yes, it was safer to go into the forest during the day, but in the time they’d been around, every time they went into the forest, the goblins had a habit of hit and run tactics.

  “I don’t think we should go alone,” Drax said. “I say we take Sam.”

  Letto shuddered visibly. “I say we get Ted to help.”

  “Ted will say no. You know that.” Drax shook his head. “Let’s take Sam.”

  “What about the knight?”

  Drax rubbed his forehead in exasperation. “His name is Thompfer, Letto.”

  Letto gave him a look. “Would you rather I call him ‘the knight’ or risk me making the mistake of accidentally calling him Sir Thumper?”

  Drax took a moment to think about it before giving up. “Alright. The knight it is. But we can’t take him.”

  Letto was already at the door. He stopped with his hand on the knob. “Why not?”

  “Because if we tell him, he will say something about how dangerous it is.” Drax walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Believe me. We’ll have him asking questions, gathering the others, and creating a plan. We’ll be going by tonight.”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Letto looked crestfallen. “That’s true. And he won’t even join in with all that…” he straightened up suddenly, mimicking the knight. “‘The King has asked that I guide you but not interfere in whatever you are doing’.”

  The fa?ade dropped once more and Drax smiled. It was nice to know that despite the dangerous future looming ahead of them, Letto could still keep some of his childish zest.

  “Let’s go,” Drax said, reaching for the handle and opening the door. “We’ll get Sam and see if we can find Anita.”

  Drax led the way out and Letto followed quietly behind him. Very quietly. It was eerie to know that despite his increased stats he could not hear Letto’s footsteps.

  In fact, sensing his presence required his attention. He’d asked Letto about it once before and Letto had attributed it to one of his skills which granted him something of a reduced presence.

  Together they took the stairs to the floor below.

  Drax walked with a swordsman’s grace as the knights that had taught them the use of the sword liked to say. It was in the easy steps, feet always a certain distance apart. According to her, he had taken to the sword like a natural. As if he was born to it, each strike and parry, each swing and draw was like something straight out of history. This was the reason she had given him the parchment to study.

  She believed that if any of them could learn a technique first, it would be him. Drax believed her.

  The ground floor of the inn was a mix of a tavern and a reception. When you came in, you went to the bar and met the barkeep. The barkeep was the innkeeper. With him you requested for your meal or your drinks or a room to pass the night or however many nights you wished.

  Now, in the gentle existence of the afternoon, it was empty. Rather, empty was not the right description. The countless arrangements of chairs and tables were occupied by only a handful of people. There was a drunk who Drax had come to learn always stayed in the tavern, drinking or not. There was a lady he had engaged in a conversation once or twice and learned aspired to be a story teller despite her class of [Baker].

  If there was one thing their tutors in the palace had taught Drax, it was that choosing a path that was not in tune with whatever class you’d ended up with was a sure way to live an unfulfilling life.

  At best, you would be the mediocrity of your peers.

  A man sat at one end of the bar, buried in a meal of red beans and an already half eaten loaf of bread. Drax thought of it as red beans, but it actually wasn’t. Nastild had a quick equivalent of beans, but they did not call it beans. Trying to remember what it was called failed him and he ignored it.

  The man was of more interest than what he was eating.

  Turning to a still descending Letto, he grabbed him by the arm to stop him. “What do you say we modify our intent?” he said in a whisper, voice a little too loud for his taste in the silence of the tavern.

  Letto spared a look at the tavern. He took in the empty chairs and the lack of people. The barkeep stood quietly behind his counter, wiping down anything there was to wipe. The wooden top of his counter gleamed an unblemished brown, polished to a shine. He was not even done wiping it down.

  Letto returned his attention to Drax. He dropped his voice a few decibels less than Drax’s. “What do you have in mind?”

  “You don’t want Sam, right?”

  Letto nodded vehemently. “He rubs me the wrong way. And I think he was the one killing the maids before we left.”

  Drax hushed him with a finger to his own mouth. “I know your opinion on that matter. But it would be more reasonable to keep your opinion in your head until you have proof.”

  Letto frowned but did not object to the statement. “Let’s try Ted.”

  Drax shook his head, objecting to it. There was just something off about Ted. For one, the creatures he continued to summon kept on looking more terrifying by the day. The other day he’d summoned a two headed horned snake with each head as large as a man and red eyes.

  Looking into it at some point in the past, Drax had learnt that [Summoners] tended to pick what they summoned. A summoned creature was a reflection of the [Summoner]. Therefore, it said a lot about Ted that his summons were always grotesque or terrifying in some way.

  There was also the fact that Ted was something of a loner, preferring to be with himself and his summoned creatures whenever he summoned them.

  “Ariadne?” Letto asked.

  “How about someone different.” Drax nodded in the direction of the man with the half-eaten loaf of bread.

  A wrinkle creased Letto’s brows as he looked over Drax. “Jaderd?”

  “Jaderd?” By the life of Drax he had not known the man’s name. All he’d known was that the man was one of the only two adventurers in the small town.

  He was a loner that kept to himself and spoke very little. There was speculation that he was not a friend to soldiers or knights and possibly saw their presence as a usurpation of his jurisdiction.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Letto asked. “Last I heard, he might not be our biggest fan.”

  “But he loves the town or so I’ve been told,” Drax offered, hoping to convince Letto.

  “He does,” Letto agreed. “He’d just rather we deal with our issues quickly and be out of his hair.”

  Drax opened his mouth to ask how Letto knew all this but stopped himself. It bothered him a lot. It wasn’t like they were suddenly well-trained men with investigative skills and charisma through the roof that made people tell them things. They were just boys, young adults, who had been trained to fight monsters.

  Letto gathered information, and he gathered it well.

  “Let’s just try talking to him and see what happens,” Drax said, turning to the man. “I’m sure he’ll know the forest better than us. If Anita’s out there, and that’s a big if, we have a better chance of finding her with his help.”

  Letto mumbled something incomprehensible under his breath but nodded.

  “Good.” Drax patted him on the arm. “We just have to convince him that it’s for the greater good.”

  “Well, we better be careful about how we do it,” Letto warned, coming down the last few steps. “He’s strong, really strong.”

  Drax lowered his voice. “How strong?”

  “Level forty-two.”

  Drax sucked in a sharp breath. That was definitely on the high side. The only person close enough to that level among them was Ted, and Ted liked to do things in his own way.

  It meant they had to do their best not to rile the man up. At his level twenty-nine and Letto’s twenty-five, a fight would favor none of them.

  Adjusting his clothes, Drax gave Letto his most reassuring smile. It was the one he reserved for whenever he wanted to assure his younger brother that everything would be alright.

  “We’ve got this,” he told Letto. “All we need is a little bit of diplomacy.”

  “And if that fails?” Letto asked, always the voice of worry.

  Drax shrugged. “Then a little bit of offered coin never hurt anybody.”

  Together they weaved through the tables and chairs, approaching the man. The barkeep caught their movement, eyes narrowing in confusion. It was no secret that the adventurer did not like them.

  Drax gave the man his most charming smile, greeting him with a nod as he continued on his way. Letto was a quiet companion behind him. He made no sound as they moved. Literally.

  Getting to the table, Drax politely took the seat opposite the adventurer. The adventurer, Jaderd, paused in one of his bites. He looked at Drax, then at Letto who stood as still as a mountain next to Drax.

  Slowly, purposefully, he looked behind him to the entrance of the inn. He turned his head once more, looked to the stairs that led up. Then he returned to his meal, taking slow bites, like the elderly, unrushed and unbothered.

  “Pardon my intrusion,” Drax said carefully. “But would you be willing to grant us a moment of your time?”

  Jaderd said nothing. His meal seemed more important. He took another spoonful of the beans that was not beans, then a bite of his bread. He chewed ever so slowly as if the world waited on every bite, then swallowed.

  This is going to be tough.

  Drax had a feeling the man was going to make them work for his attention. When he felt they had finally earned it, he was then going to make them work to keep it. Drax did not mind doing that if it ensured that they would secure his help. He was strong, and with him, they had a higher chance of finding Anita if she was out in the forest somewhere.

  However, he would not grovel for long. The entire point of not going to Sir Thompfer was because they could not afford to dally.

  Only after a third bite did the adventurer speak.

  “Where’s your knight?” he asked in a deep baritone garnered from years of shouting too loudly.

  “Not here,” Drax answered. “And that is all I’m willing to say on the matter.”

  Jaderd looked between the both of them. “Is that so.”

  “It is.”

  Jaderd sat up, looked at the both of them. “If that is the case, then you kids can both fuck off.”

  …

  Useless.

  There was no other word that best described how Elaswit was feeling. The worst part of it was that she didn’t even know which was worse; being useless because she froze or being useless because she was actually useless.

  She sat on a simple bench provided by one of the stable hands. Just outside the stable fence, she watched the evening sky slowly begin to darken. At this rate they would reach their destination late into the night.

  What time they would reach their destination, however, was the farthest thing from her mind. What consumed her currently was the heavy sense of uselessness that weighed on her. When she had been stuck in the cave with Aiden and had frozen up after almost dying she had kicked herself mentally time and time again.

  She had been useless because she had been weak, unable to move past her fear.

  The feeling that had come with that, she was beginning to realize, was a better one than the one she currently habored.

  When the man they’d met in the morning had attacked, she’d lost consciousness for a moment. It had been in the blink of an eye. Her mind had fought to stay awake but had failed. When she’d regained consciousness, basically dangling from her jepat, her sword was on the floor and Aiden and Valdan were locked in combat with the man.

  Then she’d tried to help, used her most powerful skill.

  And what good did it do?

  The man had batted it aside as if it mattered very little. He hadn’t even paid her any attention. Thinking about it made her feel like shit.

  But the worst part of it all was that when Aiden and Valdan had begun fighting in earnest, she’d come to the realization that she could not match them. Their movements had been difficult to follow with her eyes.

  She had wanted to help, she really had. But she’d thought about it and realized that the only help she could have offered them at that time was to stay out of the fight.

  There was a crushing weight that came with accepting your weakness. There was a uselessness that came with knowing that you were more likely to cause a problem than help.

  “Knife. Do you have one?”

  Elaswit raised her head at the sound of Aiden’s voice. The air smelled of manure and wet jepat but Aiden stood in front of her with nothing but a frown on his face.

  He had been carrying the frown since they’d left the man from the morning behind. Not even a smile had crossed it. Not even when they’d stopped at the first stable to make the first change of jepats.

  Something about their encounter with the man had set him off.

  “You knew him,” she found herself saying before she could stop herself. “At least you knew about him.”

  “Yes.” Aiden didn’t seem to care. “Do you have a knife, Elaswit? I’ve checked the storage ring and I do not.”

  “How do you know him?” she asked, ignoring his request.

  “Of him,” Aiden corrected. “How do I know of him. Knife.”

  Elaswit wanted to push the issue but something warned her from it. It was in the eerie patience in his voice. Her mother had told her this morning before they’d left the palace that Aiden was a schemer. It did not make him evil, it simply made him a liar.

  With that knowledge, Elaswit currently applied what she knew of liars—knowledge her mother had given her years ago.

  You do not worry when a liar lies because a liar will lie. You worried when a liar stopped lying. Because when they did, it meant that things beyond your understanding were in place, terrible things.

  And Aiden had just admitted to knowing the man that had come after them. She had no proof that he knew him and Aiden had to know that. Still, he admitted to knowing of him.

  Aiden let out a sigh and turned away.

  Before he left, Elaswit’s hand snapped forward and grabbed him by the wrist. “I have a knife.”

  Aiden held his hand out, expression left in the same uncomfortable frown.

  He’s worried about the man, Elaswit realized as she summoned a knife from her storage space.

  But she did not understand. Was he worried about running into the man once more or was he worried about the man surviving?

  If it was the latter, wouldn’t it have been better to allow Valdan kill him? Yet, he had stopped Valdan.

  Then there was the issue of him and Valdan. They had scarcely exchanged a word since the disagreement over the fight of their assailant.

  I thought men were better at resolving issues than women.

  The moment the knife materialized in her hand, Aiden picked it up.

  “Thank you,” he said, then turn to go.

  “I want to ask you a question?” she said, stopping him.

  Aiden looked at her, contemplated his answer. “Does it have anything to do with this trip?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she nodded.

  Aiden looked to the south where Valdan was having a conversation with the stable master while the stable hands prepared their jepats inside the stable.

  “Ask,” he said.

  “What did I do wrong in the cave?”

  Aiden ran a hand through his hair, then scratched awkwardly, or maybe it was nervously. “This again? I thought I already told you that you were not the problem.”

  “And I don’t believe you,” Elaswit shot back a little harsher than she’d intended. She took a calming breath and tried again. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we went through a lot inside the cave, but when we came out, you continued to treat me like I did not matter.”

  Aiden looked to the sky, suddenly taking interest in it. He was thinking. Elaswit could see it. At least he was not giving her empty answers.

  After a moment, he squatted down in front of her so that she had to tilt her head downwards to meet his eyes.

  “As harsh as this may sound, Elaswit,” he began. “The reason I’ve been treating you as if you are not important to me is because you are not important to me.”

  His words hurt more than she’d thought they would.

  “Do not misunderstand,” Aiden continued. “You are important. In fact, no one alive knows it more than I do. You are greatly important. To your father. To your mother. To your kingdom. You are important to your world.”

  Sometimes, it seemed, Aiden Lacheart knew how to be nice.

  “But not to you,” Elaswit finished for him, and Aiden nodded.

  “Yes,” he confirmed. “Not to me. The only thing you did wrong in the cave was following me into it. And that was not your fault, it was mine.”

  Elaswit was willing to agree to a lot of things, but she would not agree to someone blaming themselves for her actions. Her actions were hers, and so were the consequences that came with them.

  “That was my fault,” she objected.

  Aiden shook his head solemnly. “I could’ve said no. I could’ve turned you away.”

  “You wouldn’t have succeeded.”

  A small smile touched Aiden’s lips but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Elaswit Brandis, I could have knocked you out and placed you somewhere to sleep.”

  There was something about the way he said it. The look in his eyes as he’d said. In this moment, Elaswit believed him. Even when he'd had less than twenty levels at the time she believed he would’ve knocked her out if he had wanted to.

  The question was where the confidence and certainty were coming from. There was also the question of why he was being so forthright with her now.

  “You did nothing wrong when you were in the cave with me,” Aiden conttinued, voice softening. He looked into her eyes, searched them. Probably seeing what he was looking for, he added: “And you did nothing wrong this morning. Staying away from the fight was the right decision. Joining it would’ve been the wrong decision.”

  Elaswit wanted to say something. She wanted to object but found herself unable to. So, a long silence stretched between them. In it, Aiden looked at her with soft eyes. He might not care about her or see her as a friend, he might also be rude, but she could count on him to be honest.

  Believable, she corrected herself, remembering he was a liar and a schemer as her mom had been kind to point out. Believable.

  Eventually, Aiden broke the silence. “Elaswit.”

  “Yes?”

  They were yet to break eye contact.

  Aiden raised his hand. “Can you please let go of me now?”

  She was still holding onto his wrist. Elaswit snatched her hand back as if she had been burned and held it to her chest.

  “Sorry.”

  Aiden chuckled lightheartedly as he got up. “It’s fine.”

  He turned and walked away. But before he was gone, Elaswit saw the worried frown slip back into place. She wondered which one was the mask. The frown or the softness he had shown her just moments ago.

  “Hey, Valdan!” Aiden called out to the knight, approaching him. “I’ve got a job for you.”

  Valdan turned from the stable master to afford him his attention. Curious, Elaswit got up and hurried towards them. She was curious as to why he would need a knife and have a job for Valdan.

  When she got to them, Aiden was asking the stable master if he had anything he could mark something with as well as a simple change of clothes. The stable master had the former but was not willing to part with the latter.

  “What’s going on?” Valdan asked when the stable master walked off to get a marking tool.

  “Hold this, you’re going to use it.” Aiden held the knife out to him.

  Valdan’s brows furrowed in worry, but he took the knife. “What’s happening, Aiden?”

  “I need you to cut something and I need a steady and precise hand.”

  Aiden looked from side to side, frowned some more. His eyes settled on a small pile of ash, evidence that someone had burnt something not too long ago.

  “Wait here,” he told them.

  He walked up to the ash and stuck two fingers into it, uncaring of if it was hot or the fact that a significant lower portion of his coat was sweeping the dirt. When he got up, he flicked his fingers, reducing the amount of ash on them. After that, he hurried back to them.

  “What’s going on?” Valdan asked once more, still confused.

  “Alright, I’m going to show you where to cut,” Aiden said, ignoring the question. “I’ll show you. Once I do, don’t ask questions, just cut.”

  Valdan nodded very slowly.

  When Aiden showed him, it was with the fingers dipped in ash. Elaswit’s jaw dropped at the sight of it and Valdan’s confusion morphed to incredulity.

  With the ash to mark his path, Aiden Lacheart drew a large circle over the front of his throat.

  “Just the flesh, Valdan,” he said with a worried grin. “Try not to kill me, alright.”