Before we can make it very far from the steps of the cathedral, an acolyte approaches us.

  "For your journey, sister Lyra and sir Elkas."

  He speaks in a hushed tone and hands us the leads of two well behaved horses. Equipped with proper saddles, they appear well kept, but entirely mundane.

  "Thank you, brother," HH turns, as the man bows slightly and retreats back into the cathedral.

  We walk the horses for a while, moving towards the busier streets when I stop.

  "I've never ridden a horse before," I say aloud to HH.

  "Neither have I," her response comes as she looks at hers puzzlingly. "But somehow, I feel like I just know how."

  "Like your body has done it a million times," I finished the sentence. "Same thing happened when I used Fly. Momentary panic, and then muscle memory kicked in."

  Swinging myself up onto the horse with a practiced ease as I just let my body move, I look down at HH. "Just don't think about it."

  She looks puzzled, then takes a breath and swings herself up in much the same manner.

  Trotting along the streets of town, maneuvering between people, carts and stalls alike, it doesn't take long for the gate to come back into view.

  Slipping into the queue of people leaving, people are still checked and processed, the same process in reverse. However, when we approach, the guard looks to me, then to HH and waves us through.

  Not wanting to let the moment pass, I spur the horse into motion and we are moving along the path in moments.

  "Seems traveling with a cleric has many benefits," I send to the group chat. Finding it easier than trying to shout over the movement of the horses.

  "Dawnreach respects the church more than the keep," HH responds. "Means we're watched more closely, but we move easier through normal security."

  "Makes sense," is my reply.

  Looking over at her, it's the first time I've fully been able to see her. Lyra's eyes are a warm amber that seem to have softened a touch now that we are outside the walls. Her chestnut colored hair blows freely in the wind, the white and gold robes she wears frame the strong figure underneath. Her shoulders have dropped and the tension in her face has lessened-though it doesn’t vanish entirely. Her holy symbol, a silver sun, hangs loosely from a necklace, and her sun-staff is strapped across her back.

  I'm roused from my thoughts as Shadow replies,

  "ETA?"

  "Probably early evening," I reply as the road crunches underhoof. "We were gifted horses by the church."

  "Acknowledged."

  "Hey, HH," I glance back at her. "It's kind of funny. I went to bed after that mini-raid due to a poweroutage. My last thoughts were of the midterm I has to take the next afternoon." A chuckle escapes my throat. "I barely studied."

  "Mine ended a few days before," she replies easily, then a few moments pass. "I had a date on Friday with this barista I had been crushing on."

  "Don't," Shadow interjects. "That life is behind us. Thinking about it right now will make you go mad."

  "He's right," I say with a sigh. "Focus on getting together again. When we have a moment to properly breathe and sort this all out, we'll be able to reminisce."

  We travel for another couple of hours, making small talk about the scenery when we come up to a small river and a bridge overlooking it.

  "Shadow," I say to the chat. "We should stop the horses for some water and get something to eat ourselves."

  "Acknowledged," he replies. "Quick rest then move out. Make sure you get here before dark."

  Pulling off the road, we dismount and lead the horses to the water where they drink greedily. Sitting down, I pull out some of the lunch that I requested from Mira that morning. Handing some to HH, "here, it only cost me a couple silver." We eat in silence for a while, letting the horses graze. As I stand, there's movement.

  The sound of wheels and a couple horses as a caravan comes into view in the direction we are going. They cross the bridge and pull off to the opposite side of the road. A man hops down from the carriage and unhitches the horses as a younger woman surveys the area, eyeing me and HH with suspicion that feels unearned.

  "Shadow, a caravan stopped near us. Going to try to turn the rumor wheel."

  "Stay safe. We don't know if they are slavers or just merchants."

  "Acknowledged," I copy his trademark as I start a call with him, letting him listen in on the conversation in real-time. I then walk across the road to greet them.

  "Hello there," I call out and the woman's hand comes to rest on her sword. "Pleasant day for traveling, isn't it."

  "Indeed it is," the man responds. "Though recent events have left us all on edge. Seems a mysterious new folk with strange powers are just popping up out of nowhere." He looks me up and down with suspicion. "Dangerous folk who glow with rage and seem immune to pain. Keep murmuring to themselves, talking to ghosts."

  "Sounds close to things that I've heard," I respond. "I've come from Dawnreach with the sister over there to see what's been happening at Brightwell," gesturing. "We're looking into these individuals as well."

  Tension seems to drain from the man.

  "Ah, good to know the Luxar is looking out for his people. I'm Frank, this is my daughter Fern. We're merchants from Brightwell." He pauses a moment, just long enough to contemplate what he's going to say next. "These 'Awakened' as people seem fit to call them. Brightwell seems to be buying them up. Most of them unwillingly. If you're looking into them, be careful."

  "I appreciate the warning," I say as my head nods in thanks. "We must be on our way. Thank you for the chat and good luck on your travels."

  I turn to HH as she brings both horses over. We mount up and press onward.

  Ending the call, I retreat to the messaging system. "Thoughts?"

  "Most of what he said is true," Shadow confirms. "The rage thing might be an ability, or just hearsay. I've found the building they seem to be operating out of, but I don't have names or numbers yet. Seems like this is the main hub for the buys. Get here quick and we can talk more in person."

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  "Right," is my only reply.

  The rest of the ride passes in silence as the grim realization sets in. We aren’t dealing with a villain. We are dealing with a market.

  The approach to Brightwell is similar to that of Dawnreach. Though this time, Brightwell sits beside the main road instead of being on it. It almost seems like the city wants to be ignored.

  The walls are made of wooden facades and the gates are manned by guards in armor that has seen better days. There is a small queue of people lined up trying to get in.

  Peering beyond the gate, the buildings inside offer the same schematics as Dawnreach, but the colors are muted. Instead of the vibrant, inviting pastels that breathe life into the city, dull earthy tones with mixes of gray and black dominate the eye.

  "I don't see a major church," I mention to HH. "Wouldn't it be the tallest building like the cathedral?"

  Instead of answering, she points to the gate.

  "They're taking more people to the side, away from the rest," she notes. "They're turning away more people than they let in, and I can't see anyone who's been 'set aside'."

  Now that she's pointed it out, I see it too. Guards ushering people who look confused out of the line into a secondary office. There’s an argument at the gate as the guards fight with what looks like a farmer. The individual is subdued and dragged away out of sight.

  "Shadow, main gates a bust. Any alternatives?"

  "Northside. You could get a line of sight enough for a teleportation spell through a rotted section of the wall."

  He sends a ping on the map we all have and I know exactly where to go.

  Approaching the area, there's a small hill that hides us from prying eyes. Looking over it, I see the hole mentioned. High enough not to worry about a typical invasion. But we aren't typical people.

  "Okay, two options," I say. "Normal teleport through Blink, or I can summon an Arcane Gate that will allow us to bring the horses. My mana came back this morning, but I don't yet know the real reason. So this gate is a resource sink."

  A moment's pause before Shadow interjects.

  "Bring the horses. Best to have means of quick egress from a bad situation."

  "Right. Casting the spell. Hold tight."

  Looking to the location I have in mind, I weave a number of arcane sigils with my hand, connecting pathways of magic through the weave. After a brief incantation in a language that I don't know how I know, an archway of purple energy materializes in front of us.

  MP: 71/80

  "Go, I need to close this quickly."

  Moving through the portal, it feels like stepping through a doorway and falling five hundred feet all at the same instance as we move instantaneously through space.

  Closing the gate once we are through, there's an audible pop of magic that sounds all together too loud for the moment.

  "Shadow," I message, "give us a meeting place."

  "Here." He responds with a map ping to a location a few blocks away. Nodding to HH, we move into the empty streets of Brightwell. Our footsteps echoing down the deserted cobblestones.

  Approaching a main thoroughfare of the town, a shade detaches itself from an alley and sweeps up right next to us.

  "Living up to your name I see."

  "Keep walking. Don't look back. Tavern named Rusted Nail. Get a room. They have a stable in the back."

  And with that, he disappears back into the shadows as if swallowed by them. With a nod of silent communication, HH and I move to the indicated tavern.

  The Rusted Nail is a rough looking establishment. Saloon doors, rotting porch wood, a sign hanging by a single chain. Pushing in, there's a number of individuals wallowing in mugs of nondescript alcohol. An Orcish man sits in a chair behind the bar almost dozing off.

  "3 silver a night," his voice is rough and annoyed. "You break it, you buy it. Any key you want." He points to a board by the stairs.

  Dropping the coins on the counter in front of him, he barely notices they hit the counter. Grabbing a key on the third story with a view of the street, we ascend the stairs, climbing to the room.

  Unlocking the door, Shadow is already in the room, having climbed the side of the building and entered through a window.

  "Finally," I say. "I get to see your sorry ass and this is the greeting I get."

  Walking over to him, I greet him with a large hug. Pulling back, I look him up and down. Emerald green eyes scan me, doing the same. The dark leathers of his armor drink the faint light. His black hair tied back in a tight braid. Elven features are striking.

  "How are you holding up," I ask him. "Brother."

  HH arcs an eyebrow at that. "Didn't know you two were related."

  Shadow chuckles at that. "Not blood, but basically."

  "He's one of my oldest friends." I look past him out the window. "Now, what are we looking at?"

  Slipping into raid leader mode, it feels eerily close to the planning stage of a tough encounter. The Heckler is loud and boisterous even at this hour. Promising the difficult fight to come.

  Slipping into raid leader mode, it feels eerily close to the planning stage of a tough encounter. The Heckler is loud and boisterous even at this hour. Promising the difficult fight to come.

  "Tavern with an attached warehouse," Shadow responds. "Likely to have some connecting hallways to keep noise levels down in the warehouse itself. Haven't been inside to take a look yet."

  HH speaks up. "I could do that. Clairvoyance is a handy spell that'll allow me to look into the space."

  "Cast it," I nod to her. "Any legs up we can get, we'll take. Shadow, physical recon. Check locks, doors, windows, anything that can be used to get in without alerts."

  With nods of approval, each takes to their roles.

  Shadow slips back out the window, the movements of a trained assassin blending with his dark armor until he’s little more than a distortion in the fading light.

  HH sits on the floor, hands resting on her knees as she begins to chant hymns in a language I somehow recognize as Celestial.

  After a moment, her eyes cloud to milky blankness.

  "Three cages,” she says softly. “One individual each. They’re lethargic… no - drugged. Definitely drugged.” She swallows. “I'd need time with each of them to make sure they're fit to walk out of there."

  "Confirmed visual," Shadow replies in the group chat. "I'm on the roof, looking through a skylight. I can see five guards. They appear lax. Unprofessional. Signal horns on two."

  "I see... seven," HH adds aloud, which I immediately relay to Shadow. "Three horns. Basic weapons. Nothing majorly heavy. They look more like scouts or runners than fighters."

  “That’s a problem,” I say quietly. “If even one of them gets away, this turns into something much bigger than a warehouse. Guards. Other cells. Maybe worse.”

  I exhale slowly, thinking.

  "Shadow - once we secure the players, I want you to sneak into the tavern. Find proof. Records. Anything that tells us where these people are going and who’s buying them."

  "Acknowledged.”

  "Wait,” HH says suddenly. “They're talking."

  Her brow tightens. "Gristle says that these three are to be transported out come midnight tonight. They've overstayed their welcome and it's time to get paid."

  My heart thuds once, hard.

  "Confirm enemy locations and points of entry," I say into the chat. "We hit in one hour. Quiet and clean. If it gets loud.”

  I glance toward the tavern through the window.

  “Then so do we.”

  I move to the window, watching drunken patrons stagger out into the street.

  Behind me-

  "Are we going to kill them?"

  HH's concern catches me off guard.

  "They aren't mobs,” she continues, quieter. “They don’t respawn. These are people. They feel pain. They can die."

  I turn back to her. The tension from Dawnreach has crept back into her shoulders, her hands tremble slightly

  "We try not to," I say finally. "We pull our punches where we can. We give innocents the chane to flee if we cause too big a scene.”

  A beat

  “But if it is our lives or theirs - I choose our lives."

  Her shoulders ease slightly.

  "One thing I need clear," Shadow interjects. "Are we prioritizing, or is this no man left behind?"

  "No man left behind," I answer instantly..

  "They may threaten a captive.”

  "Then the one making the threat dies before they can act upon it."

  HH's eyes return to their warm amber color as she blinks away the spell. Standing up, she's unsteady at first, but catches herself.

  I roll my shoulders, the motion grounding me before the storm that is about to unfold.

  HH unslings her staff.

  Outside, Brightwell hums-unaware, indifferent.

  Inside, the plan is set.