The Lurking Menace…

The woods of Sleepinwood, once so familiar and soothing, suddenly seemed steeped in a foreign, oppressive atmosphere. The trees, which had always been silent guardians, now felt stifling, as if closing in around Pally and Merwinn. Every shadow, once soft and protective, now took on unsettling shapes, toying with their imagination and their growing unease. The silence, which would normally have reassured them, became agonising, amplifying every small sound, every crack in the darkness.

A heavy weight had settled in the air, making each breath difficult. Their hearts beat harder, seized by the insidious fear seeping into them.

Their mounting unease intensified further when they glimpsed two dark figures slipping through the trees. They moved with a frightening confidence, drawing closer to the village without care for who might see them. Pally and Merwinn froze, breath caught in their throats, their eyes fixed on those troubling forms.

Then voices reached them, distinct but low, close enough to be heard.

"I think this is the village," murmured one of the figures in a hoarse voice.

"Very well," replied the other, with a chilling calm. "We act swiftly and efficiently."

That voice was grave and measured, carrying an implacable resolve.

Those words sent an icy shiver down the spines of both boys. These were not merely visitors. This was a threat. The return of the crimson bandits, they wondered?

Pally could not accept another attack on their village. A wave of adrenaline surged through him, sweeping away all hesitation. Determined, he dashed toward the village entrance. In a flash, he threw himself at a thick hedge bordering the path and, despite his wildly pounding heart, vaulted over it in a single bound, landing before the two figures. Without losing a second, he drew himself up, brandishing a kitchen knife, his hands trembling but resolute. In a loud voice, he cried out:

"You shall go no further!"

The two figures stopped dead, taken aback by the boy's audacity. They stared at him, brows furrowed, motionless, their gazes piercing and focused. And yet the one on the right, despite his assured appearance, let a flicker of worry show in his eyes. His face tightened slightly, and he took a step back, caught off guard by the unexpected turn of events. Instinctively, he laid his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to react, his anxious gaze fixed on Pally.

Merwinn, though terrified, felt he could not leave his friend to face this danger alone. He drew a deep breath, and in a surge of courage, rushed in turn toward the village entrance. Imitating Pally, he leapt over the hedge and landed beside his friend, likewise blocking the path of the supposed attackers. Fear knotted his stomach, but he stood firm, ready to face whatever came, breath short and palms damp.

The two figures materialised out of the darkness, gradually revealing their appearance. The one on the right wore light armour and a cloak drifting in the night breeze. Upon his head, a helm revealed a face of youthful features, at once focused and assured. A long sword hung at his waist, gleaming faintly in the half-light, and every movement of this figure evoked the agility and precision of a knight in full command of his abilities.

The other figure, the one on the left, was far more imposing. Shimmering armour, even in the darkness, covered his massive torso, each plate reflecting the faint surrounding glimmers as though forged from a blend of steel and silver. He was tall, extraordinarily tall, and his body seemed carved from stone, muscled and solid. In his right hand he bore an enormous hammer, a weapon forged of a noble material akin to that of his armour, a testament to his power and station.

His hair, salt-and-pepper grey, was held back by a diadem that shone softly, crafted from the same noble material as his hammer. This diadem lifted his hair slightly, highlighting his severe face, framed by a full and impeccably tended beard. Everything in his appearance inspired righteousness, discipline, and hardness. He exuded a natural authority, an imposing presence that could not be ignored.

Pally, despite the fear gnawing at his stomach, could not help thinking that this man resembled Braum a little, not only in his bearing, but also in that aura of rigour and discipline that emanated from him. This was a man who seemed to embody strength and justice, but that same strength could just as readily represent a terrifying threat to anyone who stood in his way.

At that moment, the young man on the right spoke up, his voice calm but edged with a certain firmness:

"They are but children…"

Elric, the imposing man on his left, turned his head slightly toward him, a severe expression on his face.

"Children who appear braver than you," he retorted in a deep, authoritative voice, his piercing gaze fixing the young man with an icy intensity. His cutting remark made the young knight flush; he gripped the hilt of his sword a little tighter, hesitating between retreat and standing his ground.

"Who are you and what brings you to our village?"

Seeing the knight on the right hesitate and falter, Pally seized the moment to take the initiative. Drawing himself up slightly, he fixed his eyes on those of the two men, his hand still firmly clenched around the handle of his knife.

"Who are you and what brings you to our village?" he demanded with assurance, his voice steadier than he had expected.

The silence that followed his question seemed to stretch on, the air around them growing heavier as Pally and Merwinn awaited an answer, bracing themselves for what was to come.

The sturdier man stepped forward on a firm foot, his heavy tread echoing through the night. The impact made Pally and Merwinn instinctively recoil, a shiver of fear running through their bodies. Sensing their alertness turn to mistrust, the man raised his hands, palms open, to signal that he would advance no further.

"Fear not, I am not your enemy," he declared in a deep, measured voice. "I wish only to speak with the village chief on a matter of the utmost importance."

Pally, though somewhat reassured by the man's gestures, did not fully lower his guard. He forced a nervous half-smile, trying to mask his anxiety.

"I shall repeat the question one final time: who are you and what brings you…"

He could not finish his sentence, for a powerful voice cut him off abruptly.

"Pally! Merwinn! What are you doing with these strangers?" Braum, the village chief, was advancing at a rapid pace, his stern gaze falling in turn upon the two boys and the strangers.

Pally and Merwinn turned toward him, relieved to see their chief intervene. Braum at once took over, his authoritative gaze fixed upon the two men.

"Who are you and what do you want in Sleepinwood?" Braum demanded in a loud and assured voice.

Elric, the more imposing of the two, lowered his head respectfully before answering.

"I am Elric, Senior Paladin of the Order of the Malekites," declared the imposing man, his grave tone resonating through the air. "I come directly from the great capital of the Alekims, the city of Faithstone. And this is Sir Daemon, a knight of our order. We come with an urgent message requiring the immediate attention of your village's chief."

At those words, Pally could not help murmuring under his breath, almost to himself: "Paladin…" The word echoed in his mind, charged with mystery and fascination. He wondered what it truly meant, and what manner of warrior stood before him.

Braum, for his part, felt a shiver run down his spine upon hearing the name of the Order of the Malekites. A name he had not heard in years, but one that stirred powerful memories within him.
He remembered that order, one of the most respected and feared across the continent. Braum had once been a warrior himself, but he had never been able to become a Paladin. He knew their reputation well nonetheless: men of unshakable uprightness, elite warriors in the service of justice, wielding the light of their faith to protect the widow and the orphan, and also, when the situation demanded, to exterminate the monsters of this world.

He fixed his eyes upon Elric with renewed respect mingled with caution, for if they had come as far as the village of Sleepinwood, it was surely because some threat loomed nearby.

Braum drew a deep breath before addressing Elric.

"You said you carried an urgent message. What threat is it?" Braum asked, his tone grave, his eyes scrutinising Elric for the slightest trace of information.

Elric exchanged a brief glance with Sir Daemon before turning once more toward Braum, his expression hardening.

Pally and Merwinn were all ears, hanging on the words of the two men, their curiosity and dread growing with every passing moment.

Elric, seeing that all attention was upon him, drew a breath before speaking in a grave voice. "There is an extremely dangerous threat, classified as rank S, which we have been tracking for some time. The trail we have followed indicates that it currently roams in the vicinity of the village of Sleepinwood."

Braum remained silent, absorbing the gravity of the situation. Elric continued, his tone edged with urgency: "It is imperative that the entire village be placed under quarantine immediately. No inhabitant is to leave or enter the village of Sleepinwood until the threat is neutralised."

He cast a glance at Sir Daemon before carrying on. "Tonight, we shall depart into the woods to hunt down this creature and eradicate it. But we must act swiftly. The village must be secured. May I count on you, Braum?"

Pally and Merwinn exchanged a look, worry and fear now firmly lodged in their young minds. They recalled Durrin's words, how he had mentioned a creature prowling the woods. They understood he might have been right, and that the danger was very real.

Braum, after a brief moment of reflection, nodded with determination. "Very well, Elric. I shall go at once to inform the village and place Sleepinwood under quarantine. We shall take no risks."

He crossed his arms, his gaze hardening. "While you hunt this creature in the woods, I will personally see to it that all goes well here. I shall don my armour, bear my sword and shield, and patrol the streets of the village all night if I must. I will make sure that everyone observes the quarantine. You will thus be able to carry out your mission with peace of mind, without needing to worry about what happens here."

Elric inclined his head in recognition of Braum's commitment. "Thank you, Braum. Your presence will reassure the villagers and allow us to focus on tracking this creature."

He raised his eyes, his steely gaze fixed upon that of the village chief. A solemn glimmer crossed his features. After a brief silence, he added in a grave voice:
"Allow me to perform a blessing upon you, Braum. It will grant you the strength needed to protect your village this night."
Braum, taken aback by this offer, frowned slightly. He had never witnessed such a ceremony and did not know what to expect. And yet, he saw in Elric's eyes a sincerity and conviction that reassured him. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded.
"Do as you see fit, Paladin. If it may help Sleepinwood, I am ready."
Elric stepped forward toward Braum, slowly removing his gauntlets to reveal hands that were robust yet strangely delicate. He raised his right hand and laid it upon his chest, near his heart, fist closed, eyes shut, then gently brought it forward, palm turned toward Braum. He drew a deep breath, and when he spoke, his voice seemed to resonate with a spiritual depth.

"O Creator of the righteous, hear my prayer. Reveal in this man the courage that dwells within him, the strength that flows through his veins, and the flame of his resolve. May he be a bulwark for the innocent, a beacon in the darkness."

Elric's words were steeped in gravity and an undeniable power. A soft glow began to emanate from his hands, a white light tinged with golden hues, like a diffuse sunrise. The light intensified slightly, but remained soothing, almost warm. It danced around his fingers like a living flame. Yet instead of travelling toward Braum, this light seemed to awaken a response from within him. As Elric slowly raised his right hand, palm turned toward the heavens, a soft and golden glow began to rise from Braum himself, as if emerging from his very soul.

The light, faint and flickering at first, grew as Elric's hand rose, accompanying the gesture in perfect harmony. The golden swirls, vibrant and warm, burst forth from the heart of Braum, rising gently like a long-dormant spring at last awakened. It was a pure light, powerful yet soothing, filling the space with a serene energy and a quiet strength.

Pally and Merwinn watched, mouths agape, at the scene unfolding before them. The light emanating from Elric's hand seemed unreal, and the one rising from Braum more so still, as though it were alive, imbued with an almost divine purity. Merwinn, frozen at first, turned slightly toward Pally, his fingers instinctively gripping his arm, as if seeking support in the face of this extraordinary vision. He opened his mouth, ready to speak, but no word came out. He feared that the mere sound of his voice might shatter the magic of this moment, might tarnish the aura of this almost sacred sight.

Pally, for his part, was utterly captivated, his eyes riveted on Elric and the light that seemed to pour forth from Braum. He saw nothing else but this scene, as though the world around him had vanished. A strange warmth, a blend of admiration and curiosity, awoke in his chest. He had never seen anything so extraordinary, so… pure. How could such a light exist? Where did it come from? Was it truly a divine force? Or something one could learn to master, like a skill or an art?

Elric's gestures, calm and assured, resonated deeply within him. It was not merely raw power that he beheld, but a form of mastery, of connection, almost of grace. Pally clenched his fists, not from apprehension, but from an unspoken desire: to understand. To discover. A seed had been planted in his heart, a fascination and a yearning he could no longer ignore. One day to be capable of projecting that light, not merely for himself, but to protect, to guide, and to inspire as this Paladin did.

Elric, still focused, continued his motion, guiding Braum's light toward a greater elevation, until it wholly enveloped the village chief, illuminating his face one last time with renewed vigour before fading away.

Braum, dazzled by this sudden rise of light emanating from himself, felt a powerful energy coursing through his body. He raised his head slightly, eyes closed, as if to better welcome this benevolent force. A soothing warmth spread through his limbs, dispelling any weariness or doubt he might have felt. His muscles relaxed, then firmed, imbued with a new vitality. When he opened his eyes again, a spark of determination shone in his gaze. A confident smile drew itself upon his lips, bearing witness to the vigour and serenity that now dwelt within him.

Elric slowly lowered his hand, inclining his head slightly, his eyes closed in an expression of deep reverence. In a breath steeped in devotion, he murmured: "Praise be to the Creator, infinite source of all light."

Sir Daemon added, in a solemn tone: "With you securing the village and us hunting the beast in the woods, we maximise our chances of success. We shall keep you informed of our progress as soon as possible."

Braum acknowledged them with a nod of gratitude. "So be it. Sleepinwood counts on you."

Then, turning to Pally and Merwinn, he said in a firm yet kindly voice: "You have heard. Warn the village, and return to the orphanage at once. Do not linger on the way, and make sure everyone is informed."

Pally and Merwinn, still lost in their thoughts after the scene they had just witnessed, nodded with a slight delay. They exchanged one last glance with Braum before hurrying toward the village, their hearts pounding. They dashed through the streets, knocking at the doors of the houses, shouting Braum's order. The villagers, incredulous at first, soon saw the gravity in the two boys' eyes and understood that the situation was serious. Each hastened to return home, bolting doors and windows, gathering loved ones around them.

Meanwhile, Braum returned to the communal house where he had already laid out his armour and equipment after the exhibition bout against Cirilla. The steel of his armour still gleamed, and he could still feel the energy of the recent duel within his limbs. He fastened his shield to his left arm, took up his sword, and lit an oil lantern. His face, lit by the flickering glow, showed a fierce determination. He knew this night would be long, and he stood ready to defend Sleepinwood once more.

At the village entrance, Elric and Sir Daemon likewise prepared for the hunt. Elric checked his armour, adjusting the leather straps and securing his grip upon his imposing hammer. The moonlight made his diadem gleam, the one that held his salt-and-pepper hair back, lending his face an air of austere command. Sir Daemon, younger and more agile, tested the blade of his sword, ensuring it was perfectly honed. They exchanged a silent glance, a tacit understanding settling between them. It was a mission they had carried out dozens of times before, but the looming threat over Sleepinwood lent this one a particular gravity.

As dusk slowly gave way to night, the two Paladins set off into the woods, their silhouettes gradually fading into the darkness.
Braum, for his part, began his patrol through the deserted streets of Sleepinwood, lantern in hand, casting unsettling shadows on the walls of the houses. He made sure each door was well shut, that each window was locked. The only sounds accompanying his steps were those of the light wind sweeping through the alleys and the metallic clinking of his armour.

Pally and Merwinn, having finished their rounds, returned to the orphanage. They were welcomed by Titis, worried but relieved to see them come back safe and sound. She ushered them in, carefully locking the door behind them. The other children were already gathered in the great common room, including William and Ellendia, a heavy silence reigning among them, broken only by the crackling of the flames in the hearth.

The directress of the orphanage, of stern appearance, entered the common room. Her tightly pinned bun and long dark gown accentuated her authoritative air. She stationed herself near the fireplace, where the flames danced upon her face marked by experience, and clapped her hands to draw everyone's attention.

"Children, listen to me carefully," she said in a firm yet calm voice. "Tonight, you must all go up to your dormitories without discussion. Once in your beds, you shall remain there until dawn."

A heavy silence fell, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Pally and Merwinn, still at the centre of the room, studied the directress with an unusual intensity. The children, gathered around the room, exchanged nervous glances and wondered. They were not informed, they told themselves.

Not far off, Titis, her hands busy nervously wiping an already clean dishcloth, cast anxious glances toward the darkened windows, as if she expected at any instant to see some unsettling shadow arise. She cleared her throat softly, stepping closer to the edge of the room, her gestures betraying her anxiety.

"No matter what you may hear outside," the directress continued, her tone graver, "you must under no circumstances leave your dormitories. Not a sound, not a creaking door, nothing. Is that quite clear?"

The children, though not understanding the directress's behaviour, nodded in silence, even the youngest feeling the palpable tension in the air. The directress continued, her face softening slightly.

"Tomorrow morning, I shall come and fetch you, one by one, for breakfast. This is only a precaution, but it is necessary for your safety. Rest assured, all will be well."

She laid a pointed gaze upon Pally and Merwinn, who seemed as though they wished to ask questions. "Pally, Merwinn, that also means no wandering about in the corridors. Have I made myself clear?"

The two boys straightened up, slightly cowed by her tone.

"Yes, madam," they answered in unison, though their thoughts still swirled around the mysterious creature mentioned by Elric and Sir Daemon.

The directress cast one last sweeping glance, making sure her instructions had been properly understood. "Off you go now. Good night to all."

The children rose slowly, casting a final look at the directress before heading toward the stairs leading up to their dormitories. Among them, William had noticed the glances exchanged between Pally and Merwinn, as well as their odd behaviour. He understood at once that they knew more about this troubling situation. Yet he chose to remain silent, contenting himself with fixing the two boys with a piercing gaze, scrutinising their faces for the slightest clue.

Pally and Merwinn lingered a moment downstairs, casting a pensive look toward the entrance of the orphanage. Curiosity and worry mingled on their faces.

"Come now, you two, no exceptions," the directress declared, pulling them back to reality.

Without a word, they climbed the stairs, their minds occupied by the recent events. Once in their dormitory, they lay down in their beds, silent, minds seething after all that had come to pass and despite their whirling thoughts and the worry weighing upon them, fatigue at last got the better of them…

"What is that melody?" Pally murmured, his voice resonating in the void like a solitary echo. He furrowed his brow, eyes closed, straining his ears to catch every note. The sounds were delicate, almost fragile, like a secret whispered between shadows, yet they carried within them a deep sadness, mingled with a reassuring warmth. At last he opened his eyes and looked around, searching for the source of this melody playing in a loop.
He stood in a thick darkness, almost palpable, as if the entire world had been erased, leaving only a silent and oppressive void. All around him there was nothing, save for a strange melody floating in the air, soft and distant, yet oddly familiar.

A fine hail added itself to the acoustic landscape, catching Pally's attention and making him start. Tiny shards of ice drummed against a window, beyond which night had already enveloped the world. Beside it, a solitary lantern, set upon an ancient wooden desk, bathed it in a golden halo. The desk seemed to float in the darkness, an island of clarity in an ocean of shadows. Pally, drawn by this glow, advanced slowly. Each step resonated faintly with a low sound, amplified by the silent immensity surrounding him.

When he reached the desk, his eyes were immediately drawn to a small object set in its centre, bathed in the soft light of the lantern: a heart-shaped music box.

It was small, delicately crafted from polished ebony wood, dark and smooth, almost velvety to the touch, adorned with silver motifs in the shape of constellations, as if it held captive a fragment of the night sky. Minuscule rubies, set with an almost dreamlike precision, punctuated certain points of the constellations, representing the brightest stars. It seemed that upon opening the heart, an ingenious mechanism would set in motion, releasing a melody of enchanting purity, as though emanating directly from the stars it depicted.
A fine silver chain, subtly wrought with links engraved in motifs similar to those on the box, was fixed to its base, allowing it to be worn around the neck. It was at once a jewel and a treasure, meant to be kept close to the heart, both literally and symbolically.
The melody resonating around him seemed to come from this box, yet he could not remember why it felt so important to him.

Pally hesitated a moment, stretching out his hand toward the box. When his fingers brushed the ebony wood, a shiver ran down his arm, like a cold warmth, strange and contradictory, that seemed at once to comfort him and shake him to his core. A vague and indistinct image briefly imposed itself upon his mind: delicate hands closing this heart. A soft voice, distant but loving, whispered almost inaudibly at the depths of his thoughts.

The melody seemed to rise gently, gaining in intensity, as though in answer to his presence. Each note, crystalline and poignant, seemed to resonate directly in his chest, awakening echoes of a past he had forgotten… or perhaps chosen to forget.

He gathered himself and, hesitating a moment, decided to take the box delicately into his hands. On the back of the box, a fine inscription, engraved with an almost solemn precision, drew his gaze: "My love shall never die." These words, foreign to his conscious memory, yet awakened a deep echo within him, a troubling emotion blending still that comforting warmth with a lancing pain, which he could neither name nor comprehend.

His breathing quickened slightly. "Why… do I know this?" he murmured, his gaze fixed upon the engravings.

Suddenly, a sinister creaking rang out behind him, interrupting his thoughts. A door slowly opened, the muffled and prolonged sound tearing the silence apart. Pally started, and in his panic, the music box slipped from his hands, falling to the ground with a heavy thud. The heart snapped shut abruptly, cutting off the melody with a sharp click. A heavy silence then filled the room, smothering even Pally's breath.

He slowly turned his head, frozen by fear. Through the shadow of the half-open door, a silhouette was taking shape. Tall, swaying, it seemed blurred and indistinct, but its advance was clear. The shadow drew nearer, each dragging step resounding through the room like the slow, implacable beat of a drum. A hoarse breathing, accompanied by guttural, inhuman sounds, escaped from the silhouette, as if it were struggling to exist. The figure staggered, its disordered movements adding a terrifying strangeness to its progression.
Pally, frozen with fear, felt an icy shiver run down his spine. He tried to move, to flee, but his legs refused to obey, as though nailed to the ground. His hands trembled, searching for purchase, but panic clouded his mind. The silhouette kept drawing closer, its oppressive aura filling the space.
Suddenly, the melody changed. What had been soft and soothing became tense and menacing. The delicate notes of the music box warped, their once-steady rhythm breaking into chaotic fragments. A new tone arose, lower and more imposing, as though a funereal organ had joined the air, sweeping away the gentle spiralling sounds and drowning them in a storm of dramatic chords.
The rain, which had gently caressed the window moments before, became a violent downpour. Every drop hammered against the glass with an oppressive intensity, as if the outside world shared his terror. The rumbling bass notes of the organ filled the space, resonating like an echo from a fathomless abyss. Every note bore an unbearable weight, seeming to tighten an invisible grip around him.
The silhouette extended a gaunt and icy hand toward him. When it seized him by the left shoulder, a searing pain flooded through Pally, as if a crushing weight were closing upon him. His breath grew short, his thoughts blurred. The sounds, the images, the melody… all blended together in a deafening chaos. A deep and distant voice murmured his name, followed by a cacophony of whispers. He could no longer make out anything, lost between dream and nightmare.

"Pally… Wake up!" A clear voice, nearer, suddenly pierced the tumult. Then another, soft and worried: "Pally, are you all right?"
He opened his eyes abruptly, panting and drenched in sweat. Merwinn was at his bedside, his gaze full of concern, while Ellendia, her brow furrowed, held his hand.

"Pally, you were having a nightmare," Merwinn murmured, almost trembling. "We heard you groaning…"
Pally passed a trembling hand over his face, trying to catch his breath. Everything seemed blurry, unreal, but the icy sensation of that hand on his shoulder remained engraved within him.

Pally caught his breath, his face still damp with sweat. Merwinn placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder, his eyes searching for an answer in his friend's gaze. "Pally… what happened? Are you all right?"
Pally looked away, as if to hide something. "Yes, yes… I'm fine… just a bad dream," he replied in a voice meant to be reassuring, yet which betrayed a certain tension.
Ellendia, crouched near the bed, watched him with a mixture of curiosity and worry. "A nightmare, hmm? Given how you were thrashing about, it looked far more than just a bad dream," she said softly, her piercing gaze trying to read within him.
Merwinn nodded in Ellendia's direction. "She heard a sound and slipped in here. I explained… well, what we know about this creature in the woods." He swallowed, his fingers nervously playing with the hem of his tunic. "But it's madness all the same, isn't it? A rank S creature, there, so close to us…"
Ellendia straightened up, folding her arms. "And what about you two? You look like you're hiding everything from me."
Pally lowered his head, his expression hardening. "It's nothing. Just… images in my head that won't go away," he murmured, more to himself than to them.
He remained silent for a moment, his gaze lost. The confused memories of his dream came back to him in waves: that melody, that music box, that menacing shadow. All of it seemed inexplicably tied to the creature prowling the woods. A burning sense of frustration and helplessness welled up within him. He clenched his fists, trying to contain the turmoil rumbling in his chest.
Merwinn, worried, crouched down in turn to try to catch his attention. "Pally, are you sure you're all right? We can stay here if you want to talk about it."
Pally raised his head abruptly, his eyes gleaming with a fierce determination. "No, Merwinn, I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of sitting here like helpless kids! That creature is out there, and no one is doing anything to stop it." He sprang to his feet, his fists still clenched. "So we're the ones who'll kill it. You and me, we're strong enough with our swords!"
Merwinn drew back slightly, taken aback by the sudden intensity of his friend. "What? No, Pally, that's madness! You know perfectly well we stand no chance," he stammered, his eyes widening with fear.
Ellendia, leaning against the wall, clenched her fists, her jaw tight. "I agree with Merwinn. It's insane, Pally. You'll get yourselves killed."
Pally fixed his gaze upon Ellendia's, a glimmer of defiance in his eyes. "Perhaps. But staying here is worse. I can't… I won't be helpless. I need answers, and I know we can do this. Together."
A heavy silence settled. Merwinn stared at the floor, torn between fear of the unknown and the desire not to abandon his friend. He finally let out a deep sigh, resigned. "If you're going, then I'm coming with you. But I'd rather Ellendia stayed here. If something happens to you… no, if something happens to us, I want her to be safe."
Ellendia unfolded her arms, stepping forward with determination. "Out of the question that I stay. What do you think? That I'll let you face this alone? I have my bow, and I know how to aim. If we do this, we do it together."
Pally sighed, but nodded. "All right. Together then. But we must be discreet. If Braum sees us, he'll send us back before we even reach the woods."

They set about it swiftly. Pally grabbed his steel sword, its familiar weight bringing him a strange sense of comfort. The blade, well-kept and sharp, reflected a pale glimmer in the half-light. Merwinn, more methodical, also took his sword, testing the soundness of the hilt and running a cautious finger along the edge to make sure of its effectiveness. Ellendia, meanwhile, grabbed her bow and carefully fastened her quiver to her back with adjusted straps. She checked that each arrow was properly aligned, her movements swift yet precise. Her face betrayed an anxiety she tried to mask behind her apparent calm.

Pally went to the chest at the foot of his bed, opening it carefully so as not to make any noise. From it he drew a thick rope that he had carefully concealed. Without a word, he went to the window and tied it firmly to the bedpost, checking the knot twice to ensure it would hold. Casting a glance outside, he narrowed his eyes to probe the shifting shadows of the night. The wind played gently in the trees, but there was no sign of suspicious movement.
"Come on, one at a time. Not a sound," he whispered, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

As Merwinn approached to descend, Pally remained near the window, keeping watch vigilantly. He observed the alleys and the surroundings, his senses on alert. He knew Braum was patrolling, and that a single misstep could ruin their plan.
Merwinn grasped the rope, his hands firmly clenched around the rough fibres. Going down in the darkness was no easy matter, and he grimaced as he felt the cold wind gust beneath his tunic. His boots at last touched the ground, and he made a discreet sign toward the window to indicate that all was clear.

Ellendia followed with a surprising agility. She gripped the rope, her bow firmly strapped across her back, and slid down with a fluency that betrayed her habit of climbing. Her boots landed almost soundlessly upon the soft earth, and she joined Merwinn, casting a watchful glance around them.
Pally, after one last look to ensure they were not being watched, took hold of the rope and descended in turn. His face was set, focused on every movement. Once on the ground, he pulled the rope down carefully and hid it in a nearby bush to erase any trace of their departure.

They grouped together near the orphanage wall, crouched low, their silhouettes barely visible in the shadows. Breaths short but silent, they exchanged a look.

Pally whispered: "Not a sound. We move fast, and we find this creature before dawn rises."
Ellendia cast a glance in the direction of the main street, her eyes narrowed the better to make out any movement. "Braum might be nearby. We'll have to stay in the shadows and avoid the lanterns."

Merwinn nodded, his face taut with apprehension. "If he sees us, it's over. Let's follow the alleys behind the houses."
They exchanged one last glance, mingling fear and determination. Then, with a light and discreet step, they moved away, sinking into the darkness of the night, their purpose fixed on the woods where the creature lay in wait.