Jargen: “Rel. Are you doing it, or should we?”

  He nodded toward the room where Faya was being treated, not far down the corridor.

  Punjo: “Jargen, don’tcha think it’d be best if we all did it...?”

  Jargen: “You’re asking me? Hell if I know. If it were your son, what’d you prefer...?”

  Punjo: “I’d prefer we’d at least have some sorta clue where he’s at...”

  Rel: “Let’s not overthink this. Madam Anya needs to know, so let’s just go tell her already.”

  Rel strode hastily toward the door, his mind set.

  Jargen: “Dammit, kid. Not thinking about it isn’t gonna help you when the woman loses her mind...”

  Punjo: “Might be best to just rip the band-aid off. C’mon!”

  Punjo followed after Rel, Jargen trailing close behind.

  When Rel opened the door, Anya’s worried gaze immediately locked onto them.

  Anya: “Finally...! What took you so long?! I’ve been worried sick...”

  Faya lay in a deep slumber, her wound looking worse than before, though mercifully, she didn’t seem to be in pain. Anya, on the other hand, looked drained, as though she hadn’t slept in days.

  Jargen: “We had to patch ourselves up. Cabdan’s men were waiting for us... Things weren’t as smooth as we’d hoped. But nothing we couldn’t handle.”

  Anya leaned slightly, her eyes scanning behind them. The moment she realized who wasn’t there, the hope in her face crumbled.

  Anya: “... And Virno?”

  Jargen hesitated.

  Jargen: “Virno was on the frontlines. It’s thanks to his bravery that we got to the girls as fast as we did. If it weren’t for young men like him, we’d --”

  Rel: “He’s missing, Madam Anya.”

  Rel cut him off, his voice somber and resolute. Jargen’s head whipped toward him, his eyes wide in disbelief.

  Anya: “... Missing?”

  Anya stood up from her chair, the creak of the old wood amplifying the heavy silence that filled the room.

  Punjo: “He... he stayed behind, miss. To hold off an... enemy.”

  Rel shook his head.

  Rel: “Whatever that thing was, it wasn’t just an ‘enemy.’ It was a demon.”

  Anya’s eyes snapped to him, her tone rising with anger and fear.

  Anya: “A demon?! You left my son to fight a demon?!”

  Jargen sighed, throwing his hands up.

  Jargen: “Fuck it. I tried.”

  He crossed his arms, leaving Rel and Punjo to scramble for an explanation.

  Punjo: “W-we don’t know it was a ‘demon’ demon, miss. Rel’s just jumpin’ to call it that...”

  Rel: “What would you call it, then? Madam, you know Virno better than anyone. The old man who was with us, Ballo -- he was supposed to fight it alone. But because Virno was the one who... awakened that thing, he felt responsible. He stayed behind, even though we told him not to. And now...”

  Rel faltered, looking away.

  Rel: “Now that the dust has settled... we don’t know if he’s dead or alive.”

  Anya clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white.

  Anya: “His ‘duty’... That stubborn, reckless, pig-headed bastard!”

  The trio’s eyes widened at her words, her tone sharp and unrelenting.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Anya: “Always acting on his own, even if it goes against everyone else’s wishes...”

  Without another word, she pushed past them, heading straight for the orphanage door.

  Rel: “My thoughts exactly...”

  He muttered under his breath, earning a sharp glare from Jargen.

  Jargen: “This isn’t funny, Rel! We can’t let her go back there!”

  Punjo: “Who knows if there’s stragglers left...? She could get attacked!”

  But Anya’s pace quickened, her determination unwavering.

  Anya: “Faya will need someone to watch over her. Find someone else to nurse her... I have to leave, and I don't know when I'll be back.”

  She barked orders at the women tending to the injured, not even breaking stride as she passed.

  Jargen: “Miss Anya, please -- it’s not safe out there yet! Stay in the orphanage!”

  Anya had already reached the door, pushing it open without hesitation.

  Anya: “Stay in the orphanage?! If I do that, who’s going to look for Virno? You?”

  Jargen opened his mouth to reply but found no words.

  Rel: “It’s her son, guys. Let’s just go with her and make sure she’s safe. Alright?”

  Jargen and Punjo nodded, though their reluctance was clear.

  Suddenly, Anya came to an abrupt stop at a nearby intersection.

  Rel: “Madam...? What’s wrong?”

  She looked down each street, her expression torn.

  Anya: “... I don’t know the way.”

  Jargen let out a heavy sigh, stepping forward.

  Jargen: “This way. Let’s keep a brisk pace.”

  As they made their way back to the ring, they passed several injured men and women limping toward the orphanage for treatment. Jargen and Punjo stopped some of them to ask about the battlefield. Every reply was the same: the dust had settled, and there were no signs of further fighting. The ring itself was reportedly abandoned, eerily quiet.

  Rel: “Keep a watchful eye... They might be right, but there could still be a couple of Cabdan’s men hiding out.”

  The entrance to the ring loomed before them, a shadowed portal into uncertainty. They moved cautiously inside, immediately hit by the stench of rotting wood... and death. The building radiated an oppressive, unsettling energy, sending shivers down their spines. If not for their determination to find Virno, they might have turned back.

  Punjo: “Right ‘ere... This is where we last saw ‘em...”

  Punjo pushed open the set of double doors leading to the chamber where the battle had taken place.

  Inside, they were met with an unexpected contrast. The room felt... pure. Despite the rot and decay that marred the rest of the building, this room carried an inexplicable warmth. Sunlight streamed through cracks in the ceiling, illuminating the worn floorboards and walls, which looked far more battered than the rest of the structure.

  Rel: “This room... it wasn’t like this before. Look at the floor. Look at the walls. And... do you feel that?”

  The air was charged with an otherworldly serenity. It seemed to ease their injuries, dulling pain and fatigue just by standing there.

  Jargen: “What happened here...? Are you sure a fight took place in this room?”

  They moved slowly toward the center of the chamber, where the sense of warmth was strongest.

  Punjo: “What is this feeling...?”

  Anya tilted her head, gazing up at the light filtering through the cracks above. Something glinted on the ground, catching her eye.

  Anya: “... Is that... a coin?”

  She bent down to pick it up. Rel stepped closer, squinting at the reflective surface.

  Rel: “Ballo’s coin... He must’ve dropped it!”

  Jargen let out a short, optimistic laugh, surprising the others.

  Jargen: “Well... I reckon we might just be in luck, then.”

  A faint glimmer of hope sparked in Anya’s eyes.

  Anya: “How do you mean...?”

  Jargen: “It’s a bit of a story. To cut it short: when we first met Ballo, he saved our lives -- Virno’s included. Virno wasn’t too happy about the old man calling him out for being too weak to protect the people he cared about. You can imagine how he took that... He was ready to fight Ballo on the spot. But Ballo saw the sorry state he was in and told him he wasn’t ready yet. Instead, he gave him that coin -- a coin that, apparently, ‘always lands tails.’ He told Virno that if he could ever make it land heads, it’d prove he was prepared to face off against real danger. I know this may seem a stretch, but...”

  Rel: “The coin must somehow be linked to Ballo! If we make it land heads, there's a chance that occurrence will be felt by him somehow... meaning he'd likely come and investigate.”

  Jargen: “That's what I'm hoping, too. Supposing he’s even alive, anyway. And yeah, I know -- it’s a damn long shot. But it’s better than the nothing we had when we came here. This might be our best chance to find those two.”

  Anya clenched the coin tightly in her hand, her voice unwavering.

  Anya: “If that’s the case, then I’ll see to it myself that this cursed coin lands heads... Even if it’s the last thing I do!”

  The sheer determination in her voice left the others speechless. After combing the area for a while longer, finding nothing else of note, they turned back toward the orphanage.

  In the meantime, the nurses at the orphanage worked tirelessly, with no extra hands to spare to look after Faya. One of them entered a room where the rescued girls were recuperating, looking frazzled.

  Nurse: “I’m going to need another helper! Is there anyone free?”

  All the other nurses were preoccupied. Unexpectedly, Tyssa stood up from her bed.

  Tyssa: “I’m free... Let me help.”

  The nurse blinked, caught off guard.

  Nurse: “Tyssa, you should stay and rest... You’ve been through --”

  Tyssa: “No -- please. Don’t feel sorry for me... I don’t feel sorry for myself. Let me help. I’ve plenty of experience treating injuries... And it’s better than sitting here, doing nothing.”

  The nurse hesitated, but eventually relented.

  Nurse: “Alright... Follow me. I’ll show you what to do.”

  She led Tyssa to Faya’s room, quickly explaining the treatment regimen. Once the nurse left, Tyssa closed the door and got to work.

  As she prepared the medicine, she glanced at Faya, who lay unconscious on the bed.

  Tyssa: “Faya. It’s been a while since we last talked... I hope you can hear me. I know you’re still in there...”

  She administered the treatment carefully, her hands steady, though her voice trembled.

  Tyssa: “... Rel thinks I owe you a ‘thank you.’”

  Grabbing a nearby chair, she sat beside Faya, holding her hand gently.

  Tyssa: “He’s wrong.”

  Her grip on Faya’s hand tightened, her voice softening to a whisper.

  Tyssa: “... I owe you an apology.”