CHAPTER 4
471 Words
She counted silver coins into my hand.
"The council's getting nervous."
"When do they ever stop?"
She snorted. "Fair point."
I slipped the coins into my pouch. "Any new contracts?" She hesitated.
"Depends."
"On what?"
"How much do you enjoy mountains?"
I stared at her.
"That bad?"
"Worse."
She handed me another parchment. Three disappearances. Old northern road. Near abandoned sanctums. Witnesses reported hearing bells where no shrines remained.
I frowned.
"Bells?"
She shrugged.
"I copy the reports."
"I don't write them."
My fingers tightened slightly around the parchment. I accepted the job. I wasn't sure why. Something about it felt...
Familiar.
I told myself it was because the pay was excellent. It sounded more convincing than admitting I couldn't stop thinking about ruined shrines.
The city square was louder than usual. I hadn't intended to stop. The crowd decided otherwise.
People had gathered around the Hall of Accord, craning their necks toward the broad marble steps. Curiosity won. It usually did.
I slipped between two merchants until I could see.
Five delegations stood beneath the great archway.
One wore heavy grey cloaks trimmed with wolf fur.
Another dressed in deep crimson, elegant enough that even standing still felt deliberate.
Further back stood figures clothed in pale green, their robes moving in a breeze I couldn't feel.
I'd never seen representatives from so many factions in one place. That alone was unusual. The shouting wasn't.
"The borders were crossed."
"They were patrolled."
"By your soldiers."
"Because yours disappeared first."
Arguments rose and fell across the square. No one reached for a weapon. Not yet.
Still...something felt wrong. Not what they were saying. How quickly it escalated.
A merchant beside me muttered something under his breath. Another snapped back. Within seconds they were shouting at one another. Two strangers. Arguing as though they'd hated each other for years.
I glanced around. Every conversation nearby had become sharper. More suspicious. More hostile. It spread through the crowd like cold creeping beneath a door. No one seemed to notice.
Except me.
I looked toward the windows surrounding the square. Polished glass reflected the gathering perfectly. People. Flags. Movement.
Then—
Between the delegates...
A tall figure stood where no one should have been. Its body was smooth. Dark. Like polished obsidian. No features. Only a silhouette. Watching.
I blinked. The reflection was normal again. A chill ran across my shoulders.
Not again.
I left before the meeting ended. The city suddenly felt too crowded. Too loud.
Every polished window caught my eye.
Every reflection made me hesitate.
By the time evening settled over Nerath, I was thoroughly annoyed with myself.
"You fight monsters for a living," I muttered.
"And somehow you're losing an argument with your own imagination."
An old woman selling roasted chestnuts looked at me strangely.
I smiled apologetically and kept walking.
- Writer
