Set back onto the same, brittle cold trail as before, the wagon and its surroundings cked any noise, outside of the occasional bump of the wooden wheels. Dante looked over at the individual they were transporting, the governor by the name of Theodre Petsatra. They were simply sporting a red cloak that went over their chest and draped down their back. They wore nothing else over their metal and stone body, likely because it didn’t have anything that quite needed to be covered. Dante sighed while he leaned back, gncing over at Rorburn, him ying against the barrier wrapped in a bnket of wool. It looked as if it would be an uneventful ride, leaving Dante with a desire for something to pass the time with. He turned over towards Pryderi, who looked busy watching around the carriage. Leaning forward, Dante scooted towards Pryderi, sitting across from him as he cleared his throat. Pryderi looked back down at him, sitting on his foot as the wind began to howl somewhat under their conversation. “Hey, uh… Pryderi.” “Yeah?” Dante looked over at Theodre for a moment, the governor looking spaced out as they leaned against the wall that walled between the cart and where the coachman was sitting. “Is there a reason why they aren’t really, you know, saying anything?” Pryderi thought for a moment, looking over at the governor while he conjured an answer. “I’m not sure. They were pretty talkative in the city, then the second we left, they went quiet.” Out of both boredom and curiosity, Dante slowly stepped over towards Theodre, waving as the governor paid him no mind, their eye staring forward and remaining still. Sitting down about a couple feet away from them, Dante waved, smiling slightly as he tried and speak with them. “Hello there, I’m Dante, this party’s cleric. Is everything alright? Do you feel sick or tired?” Theodre turned towards him, holding one of their fingers up to try and gesturing to be quiet. Dante didn’t quite get the message, tilting his head as he kept talking. “Huh? Is your head - ” “Hush!” Theodre spat out, their voice gritty and deep. “Oh… okay. Are you sleeping or..?” “What part of…” Rubbing their fingers on their eye, Theodre made a grinding noise simir to that of a sigh, looking back at Dante. “We governors have a very, very high price on our heads from the Hadleighs. It is best that anyone who sees this carriage not know that I’m here. So be quiet!” Nodding in response, Dante scoot back away, sitting over alongside Rorburn once again as Ireishil be across from them, Pryderi still poking his head around the entrance of the cart to ensure there wouldn’t be an ambush. Rorburn was fully awake, him sat comfortably under the bnket while he helped himself to some of the rations they had brought along. Deciding there not being quite anything else to do, Dante opened his tome, reading through his spells and practicing them for a bit while the wind howled alongside the cart. It was a brief moment before the howling died down, them heading towards lesser an altitude as the temperature began to rise.

  Rorburn heaved a sigh of relief as he peeled the bnket off of him, his body shivering for a moment as the mountain they scaled exit into the distance, now only some retively warmer pins and paved roads ahead. Dante bent over the wooden barrier along the carriage, reaching into one of the sacks that were tied to it, hoping to store the bnket away. It was only then that he noticed that the paved road they were on looked recently traveled, with the marks of wheels and footsteps still fresh in the dirt. While Dante stared at the strange markings, the carriage suddenly stopped, jerking the party forward. The coachman yelled out something incoherent, Pryderi quickly looking over the cart to see what was happening. Dante scooted over closer to Pryderi, standing up to get level with him while the governor sat down in a corner of the carriage that was mostly safe from the light. “What’s going on..?” Dante asked nervously, Pryderi looking back down at him for just a brief moment. “Some hooded guy with a sword’s just standing in front of us. I’m gonna go see what’s up. Dante, stay in here with the governor.” Ireishil nodded while she walked out of the carriage with him, Rorburn following behind her. Dante sat timidly alongside the governor, their eye seemingly looking through the wooden and fabric linings of the carriage, likely at the ongoing commotion.

  “Hey! What’s your problem?” Rorburn asked, walking over to the individual standing in front of the carriage. They were in a cowl and lightweight armor, their scabbard behind their back as it stood out long-ways along their pelvis. Not responding to either Rorburn or the shouting coachman, they only stood still while facing away from the group, moving their arm back. Rorburn prepared his zweihander at the sight of this. “Don’t try anything, fuckface! I’ll kill you in front of everyone if I have to! Now drop your weapon and run off!” Their hand tched onto the hilt of their sword, quickly unsheathing it to reveal that it was a specially designed miaodao, the bde being a silvery white with some pieces of art stained onto it. “Wrong move.” Rorburn challenged, throwing himself forward as he swung his zweihander towards them. The cowled one simply lept over Rorburn’s advance, Pryderi sending a couple arrows at him as they ascended. Managing to outmaneuver both of the arrows, Pryderi fired another one at them, only for the stranger to split it midair, it hitting the ground with a faint tink before they began to speak. “I am Jilu, and I am hired to kill Theodre Patsatra.” Backing towards the cart, the 3 of them ran after them, not reaching Jilu in time before they stabbed through what seemed to be a random pce in the fabric coverings. Shortly afterwards, a metallic shrieking was heard from the other side, as well Dante shouting. Pryderi muttered something under his breath as Jilu stood still, before pulling the sword back out. Oily, bck blood dripped from the handle, Jilu flicking the liquid off while they spoke. “Do not interfere. It is done.” “You fucking asshole!” Rorburn yelled out, Pryderi firing another arrow, Jilu ducking under it. “I am not assigned to kill you.” Jilu calmly stated. Rorburn ran over to them, swinging his zweihander into them once again, only for Jilu to deflect it with visible ease, backing away while they raised their sword in front of their chest. Pryderi fired another volley of arrows while Rorburn distracted the bounty hunter, Jilu blocking each of the incoming blows from the nitlie, before turning and dashing away from the projectiles. Ireishil was the next to attempt to strike them, her charging into them and bashing them with her shield. They only staggered for a moment, before standing up straight, dodging under her next strike and sending an elbow into her side. Despite their strenuous movements, Jilu’s cowl remained firmly wrapped around their head, keeping their face obscured by a bck fabric. Swinging their sword rapidly in front of them, they cut through more of Pryderi’s arrows, Pryderi finding himself to be low on munitions whilst Jilu had destroyed what arrows had remained. Rorburn attempted another lunge, leaping over towards Jilu and swinging his sword down about as hard as he could manage. Out of some athletic feat, Jilu jumped up from his zweihander, kicking their foot along the blunt end of the bde and sending it out of his hands. Visibly enraged, Rorburn unsheathed the cws over his arms, slowly walking over towards Jilu raising his hands. “You gonna fucking fight back, dickhead? Or are you gonna keep running away?” Jilu shook their head in response, pointing downwards as they managed a response. “It is not my assignment to - ” Managing to finally nd an arrow, Pryderi fired one into Jilu’s shoulder, the arrowhead sticking out along their neck while they stood still for a moment. Looking confused, Pryderi stepped forward, squinting his eyes. “Are they… dead?” He asked, the 3 of them looking at one another. Springing back to life, Jilu raised their sword, lunging towards Pryderi before the party could react. Driving their bde through his chest, Pryderi choked out as he felt the metal puncture through his organs, Jilu quickly taking it out and looking back over at Rorburn, the nitlie visibly enraged as he advanced towards Jilu. This was met by Jilu slicing their bde through one of his arm bdes, then quickly making another slice across his neck, Rorburn slumping to the ground and grabbing his fingers along the gaping hole in his throat. Holding her shield up, Ireishil approached Jilu, swinging her axe forward and cshing it against Jilu’s miaodao. Slicing it downwards, they sliced off some of Ireishil’s scales along her arm, her flinching before swinging her axe forward. Trading blows, Jilu stabbed their bde into her side as she hooked her axe onto their shoulder, it looking as if it were about to come off for a moment. Taking their sword out of Ireishil’s ribs, they sheathed their bde yet again, letting Ireishil fall to the ground in front of them while the bde of her axe fell from their regenerating shoulder. A slight trickle of what appeared to be Darkness came out from Jilu’s wound. Once their pursuers were dead, Jilu ran down the road, the coachman stuck in awe as he sat on top of the carriage, frozen completely solid in fear.

  Dante rapidly lost faith in his ability to save the governor. No matter how hard he tried, their body wouldn’t heal from his spells, likely because such metal and stone could not be mended with spells intended for flesh. Coming to the realization, Dante quickly ran out of the cart, hoping the sudden quiet meant that the intruder was dealt with. But all he saw were 3 corpses, each of his party members lying dead on the ground, bleeding from their wounds while the Jilu character was nowhere to be seen. “A - Ah! My… o - oh my forces, I…” He sputtered out, remaining petrified in shock for a moment, Dante’s breath hitching while his legs went frozen beneath him. Dante knew he needed to move, that he needed to revive his fallen party members, but his body refused his mind’s orders, his heart heavy in his chest while an intense feeling of nausea swelled in his gut. After a moment to gather his resolve, Dante sprinted over to the three and began to revive them. First was Ireishil, him patching up a deep wound that was on the right side of her ribcage, it bleeding a deep, purplish red while he mended it. While knowing their deaths were recent enough for him to reliably revive them, he couldn’t help but sob while his shaking hands pressed against her, some tears falling off his face onto her while she slowly came back to life. Immediately moving over to Pryderi, he noticed the deep stab wound that went down through his chest, it almost piercing his heart. Hiccuping while he cast, the wound began to seal while he revived him. The pulsing on Pryderi’s body was slow at first, causing Dante to worry for a moment, this worry ending once Pryderi came through. Immediately afterwards, Dante dashed over towards Rorburn, him having a gnarly cut that sshed through his neck, his left arm bde also being sliced through, nearly to its bone. His hands gripped onto his chest, Dante started to hold himself back together, the initial shock starting to dull as the rest of the party came back to life. Dante’s head throbbed from all of the recent attempts at revival, his mana rapidly declined from all the spells he had been casting. Dante heaved a deep, choked sigh as the party all awoke. Rorburn coughed out a bit of blood while Pryderi and Ireishil got on their feet, Dante standing up in front of them. A feeling of shame and guilt came over the party as they stood quietly across from each other. Dante was the first to speak while everyone stood silently, his voice trembling while he did so. “They’re… the governor’s dead. I can’t… u - use any of my spells on them.” Pryderi rubbed the back of his head, looking around for a moment while he gathered what arrows he had left. “That’s gonna have to be for another day. That Jilu character is something way worse to worry about.” Figuring that to be the name of the one who stopped the cart, Dante simply waved them over as the 4 of them went back into the cart, the corpse of Theodre being id against the wall. The coachman started the gefyls as an uncomfortable, quiet journey back home was underway.

  The cart stopping before the city of Tatezaki was cking the typical relief and joy that came from the successful completion of a mission. Instead, it remained nothing more than a humbled silence. Not quite prepared to expin why they have a corpse and not a governor, Dante stepped out before the Helm guardsmen while they each lined up in front of the wagon, one stepping in to haul out Theodre’s body while the group of 4 stood to the side. An officer sporting lighter, slightly gold-tinted armor arrived at the scene, scribbling down the happenings into his report, utilizing a hardened feather with a small blot of ink stored along their side. “The assassin’s name was Jilu?” The officer asked, looking between them as Ireishil respond. “Yes. At least, that is what they told us.” “...right, and this Jilu had such reflexes that they were slicing through arrows and running on bdes?” Ireishil nodded, beginning to understand how the story could sound ridiculous. “And it was only for your cleric that your party didn’t die?” “Yes.” The officer scratched the back of their head, putting their journal away and lifting the face visor on their helmet, revealing more of their pale Decci features before speaking. “It just seems a bit… far-fetched, is all. Jilu is the name of one of the tribes far up north. And having that level of speed is… physically impossible, I’d say.” Rorburn step forward, looking disgruntled as he begin shouting out his words. “What are you tryna say? That we’re fucking lying or something? Why would we even lie about that?” “No, no, I was only specuting, that perhaps there were some illusion spells involved - ” “Does this look like a fucking illusion spell, asshole?” Rorburn unsheathed his left wrist bde, it sliced down to where it didn’t even go over the back of his hand, the tip of it blunted ft. “There’s some crazy fucker out there killing people from the Guild! You telling me noone else is talking about it?” The officer looked down for a moment, sighing while their bright blue eyes looked back up at the Nitlie. “I… okay. You’re dismissed, await your next mission sometime within the next couple of days.” And that they did, the lot of them seeming relieved to be able to rest after such an event as they walked back down towards the castle grounds. It was hard for any of them to exchange words, with Ireishil’s guilt of not being able to nd a killing blow, Pryderi feeling an ineptitude with his accuracy, Rorburn now with what could possibly be a permanent disability, and Dante’s sensation of overwhelming futility, it felt like all that welcomed them was a cold night, and less work awaiting them from the Guild the day afterwards. Dante wanted to finish the trip with them towards their room, but then recalled that he had pns around this time; his grandfather awaited him for a meal with each other. Dante excused himself as the rest of them entered their share of the castle, Rorburn waving him off with a tiny bit of spite as he walked away from them. He felt remorse from what he could and couldn’t have done, but he hoped it wouldn’t sodden the evening he had with his new reunited family member.

  Walking down the hallway towards the dining hall, Dante found himself slowing his steps to look back, growing ever-concerned over the well being of his party. Would they be at each other’s throats when he got back? Would they be so mented from their embarrassing loss that they couldn’t bother another mission? All the possibilities spun his mind in circles while he walked, his face pouting somewhat as he turned into the dining hall. He was fairly early to the event, some of the chefs still ying out the ptes on the table in the midst of the room. It was only then that he realized that he still had on the clothes he had when he was out on that mission, the same standard-issue cleric robe that had his dagger and book tied to it in a waist sash, as well as a very faint amount of blood, both from the gouzao and his comrades. One of the heiande doing preparations walked up to him, her hair tied back under a rag. “A - Ah! I’m sorry, we are not behind schedule, are we?” She asked, Dante shaking his head, chuckling slightly while he responded. “No, no, everything’s fine. I had only finished my duties a little earlier than expected. Has Arrios already arrived?” She heaved a relieved exhale, standing up straight while she redid the ties in her stringy, gradient hair. “Hahh. Er, no, which is quite strange, considering he is… usually quite punctual to these sorts of events.” Simply shrugging in response, Dante walked back outside as he tried to clean his current outfit as much as possible, making his armaments more snug under his sash while his hands fidgeted around his outfit. It were only a brief moment before the tovron of the hour arrived, Dante looking up at the rge man while Arrios met his gaze, smiling wildly. “Greetings, Dante. How was your journey?” He asked, his deep voice echoing throughout the room while he walked alongside Dante towards the table. Dante pondered his response for a moment as he sat down, choosing the seat next to Arrios instead of all the other empty seats present. “If - if I’m being honest, Tito, it wasn’t very good. We kind of… well, we - we failed.” Looking undeterred by such, Arrios chuckled out a bit as he rested his arms on the table, a servant bringing him his wine while he spoke. “To fail is a part of learning, and you still have much learning to do.” “It’s worse, we were escorting the Ancalen governor and… and some hooded person came out of nowhere and killed everyone except me. I couldn’t heal the governor, either. It was a mess, much of it’s my fault. Maybe if my party had a better healer and that the Guild only gave me lousy busy work missions like the out of touch spoiled brat that I am - ” “Dante. Please. Do not say such things about yourself.” Arrios sighed as he leaned over towards Dante, putting a hand on his shoulder while he solemnly looked at the cleric beginning to tear up. “It is truly unfortunate that Petsatra of Ancalen did not survive the journey. But it is not your burden to bear. Nor does the weight fall onto your allies.” Dante looked up at him, leaning into him a little as his sudden fit of crying began to stop. “It’s… o - only that I feel like it could’ve been so different, and now my whole party is likely spiteful and hating each other or themselves.” Arrios shook his head, sipping from his whine as he pat Dante on the back. “Your sudden grief of failure is understood. But is it the mission that rings you with such feelings, or is it your party?” Dante thought for a moment, his tears now mostly shed while he nibbled at his meal of diced vegetables and meats, finishing his bite before answering. “I… I guess it’s my party. We only knew each other for a couple of months now, but… I feel a connection. Maybe because it’s my first group.” “You should not dismiss your feelings of kinship, regardless of experience. While common, it should not be expected to leave and join a group on such whims. Perhaps it is what fate brought to you, to be with those 3 for your career.” Giving a deep inhale, Dante rested his head on his hand as he wrapped up his meal, Arrios waving over the servants to clean after them while still in conversation with each other. “...yes, perhaps. I don’t know, I… feel awful overall, they and everyone else all went to their room with low spirits while I’m here eating a noble’s meal. I wish there was more I could do. Not just with them, but, uhm… overall.” Arrios chuckled, getting up after Dante as the dinner concluded. “I am gd you think that way, Dante. There is much you can do with the Guild. The sphere of order over Nimouervil has long shattered, and we all are working together to restore it. I hope you will be a part of that.” Dante nodded, sharing a smile with Arrios while they walked out into the hallway together. “I hope so, too. It was nice catching up, though. Shall we do something like this again sometime soon?” Arrios brought his hand to his chin for a bit, scratching at his thick facial hair while he thought it over. “Perhaps. I may need to pn ahead for it. You should go retire to your quarters, now. I will do the same.” “Right. Bye, Tito!” “Goodbye.”