After weeks of relentless tracking, Albaras finally found a trail. He crouched down, pointing to the faint scuffs in the dirt.‘They passed through here.’ He turned to face me. ’Can you see how the tracks continue?’

  I dismounted and examined the ground. Albaras had already shown me a few times how to follow tracks. I gave him a nod, sensing the smile beneath his helmet.

  ’Take the lead, my boy.’

  And so, I led us to a quiet valley, where a modest village lay nestled beneath the shadow of a dense forest.

  ’The von Darm territory, we’re finally outside the Duchess’s domain.’ Albarassurveyed the village ahead. ’But we need to tread carefully. Boundaries mean little when it’s all still one kingdom.’

  I nodded and slid off the horse. ’I’ll make my way around the village.’ What else can I do? I don’t even know if anyone’s still searching for me, or if this is as far as it goes. For now, it’s best to stay unnoticed until Albaras says we’re safe. I made my way around the village.

  Albaras gave me an approving glance. ’Good thinking. It might be better if they think I’m on my own.’ He put one hand casually on his sword. With his other hand, he tightened the strap securing his shield.

  I observed Albaras as he mounted his horse. He rode toward the village, sitting atop the animal like a statue, barely shifting as the horse moved, silent as a shadow. The villagers watched him warily from a distance, their eyes drawn to the purple fabric draped over his armor. They didn’t seem to notice me, hidden beneath my green poncho, blending into the background.

  At first, he appeared as little more than a vague purple silhouette. As he approached, the gleam of his armor broke the illusion. A black-clad knight atop an almost otherworldly steed. Those who saw him from behind noticed quickly the distinctive emblem on his shield, a house that none recognized. Not in these parts of the Empirium.

  As Albaras approached, a heavy silence fell over the village square, the air thick with uncertainty. The villagers, wrapped in plain, earth-toned ponchos, exchanged wary glances, their whispered voices barely audible over the soft crunch of Albaras’ boots on the cobblestones. Their eyes followed him, drawn to the stark contrast of his dark armor and the violet fabric of his cloak, an imposing figure in a sea of simplicity.

  Albaras dismounted, his armor settling with a metallic hiss under its own weight. Each step reverberated through the quiet square, his boots striking the cobbles with a force that seemed to echo the stillness of a statue come to life. Though the villagers continued to watch, an unease rippled through the air, as if they all held their breath, waiting for him to make his next move, perhaps draw his sword.

  Most villagers turned away or hurried back into their homes, clearly unsettled by the knight’s presence. Yet, a few lingered at the edges, drawn by a mix of fear and curiosity, unsure whether to stay or retreat further into the shadows.

  Albaras tethered his horse outside the tavern, his towering figure immediately dwarfing the man he approached.

  ’Good day, sir,’ Albaras said, one hand resting on his sword, the other offering a casual wave. His voice light, almost playful.

  ’Can you point me to your elder?’

  He let the tension linger for a breath before adding,

  ’I’ve heard whispers about deserters. One of them wore feathers on his shoulder pad.’

  The man could only nod shakily, his voice barely a whisper. ’T-t-there, s-s-sir.’ He looked ready to collapse, stammering through his words.

  Albaras followed the trembling finger, his gaze landing on a humble building, a simple wooden structure that blended seamlessly with the others, its plainness almost deceptive in its ordinariness.

  ’Thank you, kind sir.’ Albaras extended his hand in a surprisingly cordial gesture. The man, still nervous but easing, tookAlbaras′ hand. Albaras let go ’I will be on my way then. Have a nice day.’

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  As the towering figure turned toward the elder’s home, the villagers who had watched the exchange were left with a sense of confusion. The purple-clad knight’s politeness had been as unexpected as his presence, leaving an impression they couldn’t quite reconcile with the man before them. The man stared at his hand, still trying to make sense of the strange encounter.

  As Albaras approached the elder’s house, intent on uncovering the information that would bring them closer to their quarry, his eyes caught the sight of missing posters plastered across the town. One showed a young girl. He peeled the poster from the wall and tucked it into his belt without a second thought.

  ’Ah.’ Sighed an elderly man, sitting at a table and savoring his morning herbal concoction from a clay mug. The fragrant aroma of the herbs filled the air, imbuing him with a gentle vitality that seemed to stir with the early morning light.

  His desk was cluttered with papers detailing village schematics, each sheet marked with the inked traces of his thoughtful deliberations. An inkpot and quill sat nearby, testament to his ongoing strategy sessions, ways to open trade routes, expand farmland, and enhance the village’s renown while safeguarding it from bandit threats.

  The village was visited once a month by a small group of men-at-arms from the Darm family, led by a man who always stressed the family’s policy: that resources would be allocated to villages with higher income and popularity. While he was a decent man, there was something almost apologetic in his tone whenever he delivered this news, as if he, too, resented the way the village was left to fend for itself.

  Defending our village on our own is no longer optional,’ he put his mug down, his voice low as his eyes traced the maps and schematics scattered across his desk. ’We need to cultivate crops for both sustenance and income. And our defenses, those will need to be strengthened with local warriors. I can’t keep relying on these monthly inspections. Soon enough, we’ll be forced to bear the full weight of it ourselves.’

  ’Maybe if we...’ His thoughts were abruptly cut off as the door burst open, revealing a towering figure draped in purple cloth. ’Good morning, elder!’ the man said, his voice bright with enthusiasm.

  ’For Morrigan’s sake.’ The elderly man muttered under his breath, sinking into his chair to steady himself. ‘Don’t you know how to knock? Or is barging in a knightly custom I’ve yet to learn?’

  Albaras glanced around, his eyes scanning the sparse interior of the building. Shelves packed with dusty tomes lined the walls, the blocked-off rooms added to the feeling of neglect. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper, and a layer of dust covered every surface.

  ’Great Elder, I am Albaras the Purple.’ Albaras opened his arm. His voice carrying a slight edge of rueful humor. ’I did try to knock, but the door’s not exactly cooperative.’ He added, gesturing to the crooked door. ’But I think I might’ve won the battle.’

  The Elder’s expression flickered between confusion and anger as he stared at Albaras. ’Sit down first, you fool. You nearly gave me a heart attack.’ He snapped.

  Albaras noted the panic in the elder’s voice, but there was also an undeniable sternness to it. He chuckled lightly, clearly amused, then complied with the elder’s order, sitting down at the Elders table.

  ’Now that I’ve given up my name, may I hear yours?’ Albaras inquired.

  The elderly man scrutinized him before responding. ’No, you don’t. But I can at least offer you some tea before I throw it over you.’

  ’That wasn’t my intention, Elder.’ Albaras replied, raising a hand in defense. ’I was just trying to help by tracking down those deserters.’

  ’No harm done, but still not forgiven.’ The elder remarked dryly, his gaze narrowing as he scrutinized Albaras.

  Albaras acted as if he barely registered the jibe. ’This is what I know: It hasn’t been a day since they left. They were headed towards the Drech border.’

  Albaras looked up for a moment. His tone shifted. The warmth vanished.

  “When I arrived,” Albaras said, “I noticed a missing poster. A girl. Did they take her?”

  The elderly man looked down, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the memory. ’No.’ He looked down at the table.His voice carried the sorrow of too many unanswered questions.

  ’She vanished a few weeks before. No trace. She just… disappeared.’

  ’One last question.’ Albaras pressed on. ’What did they take? Your village seems remarkably tranquil after what must have been a raid.’

  ’They took some food and coin, only what they could carry. At least no lives were lost,” the elder replied, his voice tinged with relief. He hesitated before adding. ’Someone overheard them talking. They’ve gathered enough to finally make their way to Drech.’

  ’Thank you for your cooperation.’ Albaras nodded, turning to head toward the door.

  The elder sighed, his gaze lingering on the crooked door before drifting to the window. For a moment, he lingered in thought, his fingers absently tapping the rim of his clay mug, before he returned to his papers, sipping his herbal concoction.

  Albaras rode out of town, the curious gazes of the townsfolk following him as he passed. His eyes swept over the surroundings, taking in the simple, peaceful life of the village. Beyond the settlement, the outline of a wooden palisade wall appeared, still under construction, an indication of the village’s modest attempt at defense.

  Further down the road, Kian waited in the forest, leaning casually against a sturdy oak tree, smelling a purple flower that gave off a sweet, delicate fragrance.

  As Albaras approached, Kian straightened up, his expression expectant. “Did you gather the information?” he asked. Albaras glanced down the road ahead, then back at Kian with a reassuring nod. ‘Just a few more days, kid.’ Albaras said. Kian accepted the vague reassurance, nodding quietly. Because what other choice did he have?