Ch2

The path was quiet again after the fight, the only sound his own steady footsteps crunching on the dirt. The overcast sky still hung heavy, a dull gray stretching endlessly overhead. He kept moving, eyes scanning the surrounding. Wendy where could you have gone? If she was out there, he'd find her. He had to.

Up ahead, the faint sound of a struggle reached his ears. His head snapped toward it, instincts kicking in as he sprinted forward. He rounded a bend in the path and spotted an old man, hunched and frail, being shoved to the ground by a cloaked figure. The mugger had a wild, desperate look, clutching a dagger in one hand and reaching for the old man's coin pouch with the other.

Without thinking, he charged in.

"Hey!" His voice rang out, drawing the mugger's attention. The thief turned, eyes widening for a split second before narrowing with anger.

The man lunged with the dagger, but he was ready. His body moved faster than his thoughts—he sidestepped the blade, grabbed the mugger's wrist, and twisted. The dagger clattered to the ground as the thief let out a yelp of pain. He didn't stop there, though. With a swift kick to the chest, he sent the mugger sprawling into the dirt.

The thief scrambled to his feet, eyes darting between him and the old man. Realizing the fight wasn't going in his favor, the mugger bolted into the trees, disappearing into the shadows.

He exhaled, the tension leaving his shoulders. His gaze shifted to the old man, who was now slowly getting to his feet, brushing dirt off his tattered cloak. His face was lined with age, a long, white beard hanging down his chest. There was something about him—something more than just an ordinary old man. Maybe it was the way his eyes sparkled with knowing, or the faint magical energy that lingered around him.

"Thank you, young man," the elder said, his voice soft but filled with gratitude. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small vial, the liquid inside shimmering faintly. "Take this. It's a special potion. It'll make you stronger when you need it most."

He blinked, surprised by the offer but grateful nonetheless. "Thank you." He took the vial, feeling the cool glass in his hand, and carefully tucked it into his pouch.

The old man smiled, a warm but mysterious smile that made him feel like this wasn't just any ordinary encounter. "You should be careful, though. There's an evil woman in these woods. People have been whispering about her—dark magic surrounds her."

His chest tightened at the mention of dark magic. Could that be what Wendy was dealing with? "Have you seen a girl—my friend, around here? She's a bit younger than me, has blue hair..."

The man shook his head, his expression turning solemn. "I haven't seen her, but if she's in these woods, she might be in danger. There's a small town just up ahead. You might find more answers there."

He nodded, feeling the weight of the situation settle on his shoulders again. "Thanks. I'll check it out."

With a final glance back at the man, he continued down the path, gripping the strap of his bag tightly. What a strange guy. He continued his path until he saw a sign up ahead. Alright maybe there are some leads up ahead.

The small town came into view just as the last light of day began to fade. He approached cautiously, eyes scanning the narrow streets. It was eerily quiet. The buildings were old, their wooden frames worn by time, and the windows were shut tight, as if the town itself was holding its breath. No one walked the streets, not even the usual market stalls or wandering townsfolk he'd expect to see. The only sound was the occasional creak of a sign swaying in the evening breeze.

His boots thudded against the cobblestone as he made his way to the inn at the edge of the town square. The sign above the door swung lazily, and he pushed the heavy wooden door open, the bell jingling faintly as he entered. Inside, it was warmer, but just as quiet. An older man stood behind the counter, wiping a glass with a rag. His eyes flicked up as he entered, a brief look of surprise crossing his face before it was replaced by a forced, polite smile.

"Looking for a room?" the innkeeper asked, his voice low.

He nodded. "Yeah. Just for the night."

The innkeeper didn't say much else as he handed over a key, but just as he turned to leave for his room, the man's voice stopped him.

"Be careful. The nights around here aren't safe anymore."

He paused, turning back to the man. "What do you mean?"

The innkeeper's eyes darted away, avoiding his gaze. "Just... enjoy your stay. Leave as soon as you can."

A heavy silence hung in the air between them, and after a moment, he gave a slow nod. His curiosity burned, but it was clear the man wasn't going to say more. He pocketed the key and made his way upstairs.

The room was small but clean, with a single window that looked out over the empty streets below. He tossed his pack onto the bed and sat down, pulling out the vial the old man had given him earlier. The liquid inside shimmered faintly in the dim light, and the words healing potion were written on it.

Well could be useful for when I find her.

With that he fell onto the bed and too a deep breath. Wendy. He always did admire her from afar and deep down he always wondered if they could be more than guildmates but he didn't know how she felt about him.

His eyelids grew heavy as the warmth settled deep in his bones. He let out a slow breath, sinking back into the bed. The world around him blurred slightly, and the quiet of the room became comforting, a soft hum in the back of his mind.

He didn't fight the pull of sleep as he fell onto his bed and closed his eyes