BLOOD GIFT

CHAPTER 04: TROUBLE IN GRAITH

"Are you sure you're reading that thing right?" Mercy grumbled at Jon, who held a map with confusion written all over his face.

"Sure I am," he feigned annoyance. "Our first stop is a small farm town called Graith. We should be there in no time."

The carriage they were in suddenly stopped. "Hey mister, is this Graith?" Holst shouted to the rider.

"Yes," a distant voice replied. They instantly got off and retrieved their things.

"Well, let's get an in," Isabel said after inhaling a breath of air. They'd been on the road for a day now.

The gang nodded and headed into Graith. The town was small, not much bigger than The Promise, but even though it was midday, there was hardly anyone on the street. Those that saw them instantly gave them stares of death. "Damn, talk about inhospitable," Jon grumbled.

They headed for the nearest inn, a shabby, three-story building with a bar occupying most of the first floor. A worn-out sign saying "La Rosa's Place" was fixed at the entrance. This was the only place where loads of people seemed to gather, drinking and chatting amongst themselves. But even the cheeriness of the bar seemed to stop for a few seconds when they entered, resuming abruptly once the beer settled in. They sorted out two rooms on the second floor and dropped off their luggage. Jon and Holst went to the bar for a drink.

"Two beers, please," Jon said to the server, a skinny-looking girl who passed them the drinks with shaky hands. Holst frowned at this. Everyone was a bit suspicious of strangers in the Outlands, but this was becoming strange.

Jon initiated conversation with the girl, who slowly eased up to him. "You're quite the charmer, aren't ya?" she giggled, as he seemed to have cracked a joke. Holst was disgusted.

"Well, some do say that, but it seems your kin might disagree. Shame they didn't get to know me first; I have such a nice personality," he said, signaling at a table of roadmen who had been staring at Jon since they arrived.

"Don't take it personally, ser," the girl said. "The town has been under attack these days, ya see. The harvests stolen right from the barns. Those thieving scum leave nothing behind." She spat with so much anger. It was hard watching one's hard work taken.

Jon was about to change the subject when Holst interjected, "Well, you're in luck. We're a guild, and we may only have a few members, but it's enough to take care of your problems."

The girl's face lit up. Jon could only nod; he knew his best friend was stoic but also compassionate, and never said anything until he meant it.

"That'll be wonderful!" she yelped. "I'll make sure the village chief hears immediately!" She ran off to the back almost instantly.

But the cheerfulness would not last. The roadmen had gotten bold. Six of them approached the duo. "Now what did you say to that lass to get her all excited, fren?" the leader asked. He was a bulky man with a scruffy beard and a very hostile look.

"And you are?" Jon asked, sipping his beer. His boldness made them laugh a painfully loud sound, drawing the attention of everyone in the bar.

"Look, lad, there's a state of unrest in Graith, and I guess it doesn't help that your fren here has that giant crossbow hanging off his back. Tell 'em to put it away and we'll be on our merry way," he smiled insincerely, revealing a set of yellow teeth.

Holst slowly raised his head. "No, maggots." A frown, and a fist raised. Jon had already shot up, ready to spring into action.

"Stop, Kusha!" It was the server girl, breaking them up, generating boos from the bar folk who had hoped for a bar fight to wash their boredom away. "The village chief calls for these ones!" she said, making the roadmen confused. Why would the chief want to see these aliens? Kusha scoffed and signaled at his gang, making them return to their table. As Jon turned to leave, Kusha's heavy boot swept out, just missing the retreating server girl's foot, sending a spray of sawdust onto Jon’s dark trousers. He didn't speak, just held Jon's gaze with a menacing grin, promising future trouble.

Jon adjusted his collar before giving them the middle finger and walking out with Holst and the server girl.

They met the village chief at the site of last night's robbery a small barn used to store grain close to the butcher's shop. "Only two of you?" he asked without even turning to look at them. They bowed and introduced themselves.

"Good day, ser. My name is Jon, and this is my brother Holst. We came here from a nearby village, and we wish to assist you."

The village chief finally turned. He was a short man, dark in complexion, with a beard serving as his only facial hair. He had a cane and wore a brown robe. "Many have tried and failed, and now you say only you two can take care of this mysterious bandit?" he sounded annoyed.

"We're actually four, and trust me, ser, every day we defended our village from threats. We promise to see to the end of this matter. Please let us help your people," Holst said solemnly.

The chief's eyes were still skeptical. "Very well, keep your word and we'll reward you." He left immediately after that; there were more pressing matters to attend to.

They thanked the server girl, who introduced herself as Grace, and left for the inn.

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"What do you mean we have to save the village from mysterious bandits?" Isabel scolded loudly. "I thought we were supposed to get to the Greycoat Faction first!"

"Isabel, the Greycoat Faction is weeks away. We can at least get some experience being a guild, plus there's a reward. Think about the reward..." Jon said greedily.

"I don't give a damn about the reward—"

"Isabel, please, these people need help," Holst said, looking up at her. She broke.

"Fine, but only because of you. I'd never have agreed if it was this doofus's idea."

"Hey! I'm literally right here!"

"Yayyyy! Let's go save these people and get money!" Mercy yelled.

"See, she gets it?" Jon laughed.

Isabel and Holst sighed. These two were literally kids.

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Night time, farm town of Graith

The town was built in a way where the farms and harvest barns were separated from the residences. They were at the part where the barns were. Isabel was in beast form atop the houses, while Holst was barefoot, feeling the earth's vibrations for slight movements, along with Mercy and Jon. They remained there for hours, stalking the perimeter.

"What's taking so long?" Mercy whined. Isabel dropped silently from the barn roof, her cobalt scales blending with the shadows. "My nose smells nothing human, Holst," she whispered, her yellow eyes scanning the distance. "Only dust and field mice. Whatever this is, it moves outside the natural order."

"Maybe they got scared when they heard we'd be in town," Jon said. At that moment, they saw it—a giant figure flying in the sky.

"Is that a..."

"WYVERN!!!" someone shouted.

The crew immediately ran; they were good, but not that good. Jon directed them straight to the chief's house, which was thankfully next to the farm district.

"OPEN THE DOOR, OLD MAN!!!" he pounded on the chief's door.

"What's wrong?!" the chief came out, lamp in hand, wearing his white undergarments.

"There's a wyvern! A f*cking wyvern!"

The chief sensed the urgency in his voice and let them in. After a while, they went out to find the farmhouses completely raided. "Something's wrong. I'm sure I saw the wyvern destroy this barn completely, but it's still standing and only the crops are gone. And for something so big, how did it take everything out so cleanly?" Mercy asked.

The village chief laughed. "We really are cursed," he said, laughing bitterly.

"What do you mean, cursed???"

"A few weeks before harvest, a town nearby sent emissaries to ask for supplies. We rejected them, and their chief placed a curse on us using her ability. Shortly after that, the town was destroyed, attacked by beasts, coupled with the lack of food. All the inhabitants deserted. We should have just given them the grain," he said remorsefully. "The last people saw armies of the dead, now a wyvern."

"Don't worry, old man, curse or not, we'll get to the bottom of this," Jon said. He was spinning gears in his head; something was off.

The tired old man thanked them and headed off home. Jon asked Isabel and Mercy to escort him back, then whispered to Holst, "Let's go for a stroll."

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The next night:

Holst, Isabel, and Mercy stood at the farm district, waiting as they did last time. As usual, it took hours before anything happened.

"Where's Jon?" Isabel asked Holst. She hadn't seen him since afternoon, and he and Holst were constantly giggling. She just knew something was wrong. Holst only smiled at her.

"TF kind of answer is that?!"

Woosh! They saw it – a phantom of a woman floating high in the air, features disheveled, came at them chanting, "Give us food..."

"RUN! IT'S A GHOST!" someone said.

Mercy had already turned to run until Holst grabbed her. "Wait!" Isabel looked at him like he had lost it but steeled her resolve. The 'ghost' came closer and closer until it suddenly stopped and disappeared. Holst bolted in a random direction, calling for Isabel to follow him. She leapt, with Mercy on her back, to a corner where Jon was wrestling a small woman. The gang came in and pinned her down. Jon blew a horn, and the citizens of Graith, including the chief, flooded out.

"Tell them, or I will!" he said to the mysterious girl, who struggled in vain to escape Isabel and Holst's grasp.

"Fine!" Citizens of Graith, meet your mystery bandit and her accomplices!" He waved his hand, revealing a group of people that hid in plain sight – they were kids, none past the age of Mercy.

"How did you..." the girl, who finally stopped struggling, asked defeatedly.

"Well, it's pretty simple," Jon puffed his chest with pride. "Last night, we all saw a wyvern descend on the barn. Surely, for such a big creature, the barn would be in pieces. But then, after we ran off, the barn seemed to be fine an hour later. The chief also mentioned that the last people saw an army of the dead, but no one was hurt? That struck me as odd, especially since I remember an unfamiliar voice prompting us to run. I and my friend went and interviewed the people guarding the barns previously, and they all had wild stories: some insanely powerful adversary who never hurt them, and a voice prompting them to run. That's when I surmised that a Blood Gift was at work, so we laid out a trap. The moment that 'ghost' appeared, I realized the illusion wasn't just visual; it was a wave of hypnotic fear. I had to Mimic the feeling and reverse the frequency, which canceled the illusion just long enough for me to track the caster's real location."

"You used illusions to create beasts," Holst continued, "but my friend here can sense and mimic powers, so we just had to hide him close until he figured out how the powers worked and copied it. You're cooked!"

"I'm sorry, okay!" the girl yelled. "The adults left us! I had to provide for them!" The little kids ran to her side.

Isabel was touched. "Jon, Holst," she pleaded. They nodded, and Jon waved his hand. All the 'citizens' of Graith vanished, except the chief.

"An illusion??"

"Call it insurance, so you would be honest. We went towards your village last night and saw lights. We knew someone was still there," Holst said, making way for the chief.

"Come, child, you don't have to stay in the shadows. Our food is yours. We should have given it to you a long time ago." He extended his hand to her. She took it. The gang was profoundly proud of him for looking over the theft, and in the end, everyone left satisfied.

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Morning:

The chief rewarded the gang with horses, a few coins, and lots of food. They thanked him profusely and made to leave.

"Sers."

A voice called after them. It was the server girl, Grace. "I came to thank you, especially you," she looked at Holst, "for fulfilling your promise and rescuing our village. You're welcome in the bar anytime!" She kissed his cheek and ran away blushing. Holst was flustered, but he quickly regained his sense of embarrassment since Mercy was already giggling wildly.

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"Getting the girls already, eh, Holst? I guess we really are heroes," Jon said. Holst sighed; he was never going to hear the end of it. They were already horseback out of Graith, to their next destination...

"Holst has a girlfriend! Holst has a girlfriend!" Mercy chanted while giggling.

"Whatever," he said, blushing madly.

Jon suddenly stopped his horse. "Guys, now that we're already a guild with no failed missions, we'll need a name. Something iconic."

"No failed missions? We've only had one!" Isabel pointed out, making her get booed by the group.

"I have an idea: how about 'The Shattered Fang'?"

For the first time, they didn't argue or disagree. Something about the name felt perfect. "I already got this made at the village. I was going to give it to you guys, but Connor's lame a** distracted me." He passed around some shoulder pads; they were black with a symbol made out of gold stitches embedded in the middle the symbol was a circle with five pointy sides that had been broken, shattered.

"Damn," Holst said.

"It's perfect," Isabel said.

"Onwards we ride, men and women of The Shattered Fang!" Mercy screamed amidst laughs. They were all excited and resumed their journey.

"Next stop, Hilston Market."

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Author's note: Hey guys! I forgot to add this in the chapter, but a wyvern is a lesser class of dragon whose wings are more like bat wings and don't protrude from the back. They're also generally smaller than a dragon. 🤗 Love you, byeee!