On the way to the farmhouse, Tristan apologised for talking so much. He said that he knows that his voice grates on people. I honestly feel really bad for the guy. I always assumed that he was quiet because he just wasn’t big on sharing information… a bit like Phoenix. He has probably been mocked for his voice his whole life and it has made himself-conscious about it.

  When we reached the farmhouse, we tied up the horse and I suggested Tristan rest to regain his mana before Chloe returned. He found a mound of hay to lie down on and drifted off pretty quickly. I kept watch, just in case. The fog started to dissipate after a while and I got a proper look at the farmhouse. It was clearly in need of a bit of refurbishment. Whoever owns this place clearly doesn’t bother with maintenance. Yet, they still clearly use it, given the fresh hay that Tristan is lying on.

  As I waited, I thought a lot about Tristan… specifically about how quick he was to open up to me earlier. It may well have been a result of the amount of alcohol that was consumed… but it was watered down and he certainly wasn’t displaying any other symptoms of being drunk. I think… I think he just wants somebody to show an interest in him. I asked him a few questions and he opened up like a book… then apologised for it afterwards. He isn’t used to people showing an interest.

  Thinking about it… that’s probably why he cared so much about Olly and Dolly earlier. Especially, Olly. They could have just pretended to use that room. But Olly went out of his way to show an interest in Tristan… to make Tristan feel wanted. I’m pretty sure that initially Olly was just playing his part… but I do think he noticed that Tristan was in dire need of a confidence boost.

  That being said… I know Olly… and he wasn’t lying when he was talking about how much he enjoyed that second session. And now that I have heard Tristan’s perspective on the whole situation… I admire both of them. Olly for his perception and Tristan for his determination and world view.

  I get that obviously, the issues that I have around sex are very different to the issues that Tristan has. But he looked at his issues and went out of his way to try to make sure that he could make whoever he was with happy. He researched, he talked to them and he learned how to do what they liked. He then took control and made sure that they enjoyed themselves. It took me years to do that for Kiyui. I spent years being so obsessed with myself and my issues that I didn’t truly consider what Kiyui wanted and needed.

  I know I tried… I insisted on trying blowjobs and things… but the thing is… even at the time, Kiyui said he wasn’t bothered by it. I thought he was just being nice because I was so bad at it… but I genuinely should have just listened to him and asked exactly what stuff he enjoyed. I should have done exactly what Tristan did… just sat him down and asked him directly. Then I might have had the confidence to take charge in bed a bit sooner. Which is clearly something that Kiyui enjoys. I am reluctant to say this… but I do think that I am coming round to agreeing with Kiyui about this… when it comes to talking with your partner about sex it is best to just be direct, open, and clear.

  Kiyui has spent years trying to be delicate in how he speaks to me about stuff because he knows it makes me uncomfortable. I know that, compared to me, he is still incredibly open and unambiguous about it, but I can tell that he is still being tamer than he otherwise would be, simply because I am present. Well… I’m going to make an effort to have these conversations in the future. Sex is not something that I need to be afraid of anymore… in fact… it never was something that I should have been afraid of.

  I heard the sound of hooves in the distance. I could make out a group of horses advancing on us from the direction of Kataravonia. Fuck… the sun is rising… I didn’t realise it was that time already. I get lost in my own head sometimes. I woke Tristan and we went to greet the incoming horses.

  It was Chloe. She was riding towards us with Robert, Lucas, and Flynn. Chloe wasted absolutely no time with pleasantries. She jumped off her horse the second she got to the farmhouse and pulled a map from her pack.

  Chloe: “Right, from here it only makes sense for them to be heading to one of three places. If they are sacrificing them right away, then the caves to the north east of here would be a good place. Nobody’s been there since that goblin nest was taken out years ago. The village of Laezel, any of those buildings could have a basement full of fuck knows what and those gullible do-gooders are so bloody trusting that you could pull a boat load of shit right under their noses. And finally, the boathouse to the west of here. If they are smuggling them somewhere distant for this sacrifice bullshit, then the river will be their best bet.”

  Dwynfel: “So, which do we check first?”

  Chloe: “All of ‘em.”

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  Dwynfel: “Would it not be safer…”

  Chloe: “Safer, yes, but not fast enough. If they still have victims alive, then we don’t have time to check one at a time. We go in pairs… we investigate… but don’t engage unless we absolutely have to. Village is the central point. Meet up there after. If any group isn’t there in five hours, then everybody meets at their location. Lucas, go with Robert to the caves. Dwyn and Flynn check the village. Tristan, you’re with me at the boathouse. Understood?”

  Everybody nodded and went to get on their horses.

  Dwynfel: “You didn’t bring me a horse?”

  Chloe: “Didn’t have time to find one in your size. Just ride with Flynn. Now go!”

  Damn it. It’s so uncomfortable sharing a horse with somebody wearing proper armour. At least if I was riding with Tristan I wouldn’t be being jabbed by hard metal because he wears a soft robe. I get that we are split with the three frontliners with the three supports… but still… Flynn’s armour is the least comfortable to be pressed against. It proper digs into my back. Urgh.

  It took a couple of hours to ride to Laezel village. I spent that time talking to Flynn about his life, family, etc. He wasn’t as interesting as Tristan… but his voice wasn’t a painful monotone either, so things kind of evened out.

  His wife’s name is Susan. His kids are Trevor and Brooke. They are seven and five. He comes from a family of average wealth… not poor, but not rich. He is the second born boy in his family and apparently in many families that means a life in the knighthood. The first born is destined to take over the estate and the third born is destined for the temples. These traditions are quite common amongst the middle classes. The upper classes just do what they want because they have the money. And with the working classes, children are often used at free labour in whatever their parents’ business happens to be. So that all tracks.

  It is quite nice finding out more about people. I shall have to have a chat with Robert next. I know absolutely nothing about him… other than the fact that, according to Chloe, he bangs like a shithouse door in a storm.

  By the time we got to the village I had such a sore back. I had to have a good stretch when I got off the damn horse. The village was very quiet… by which I mean dead… it was dead. Nobody was anywhere to be seen… nobody was tending the fields… nobody was at the village hall… no children were playing in the streets… and there was an unnerving chill in the air. I mean… this place has always been cold. I assume because of how flat the surrounding area is… the wind gets really bad here… but like… it feels unnaturally cold here at the moment.

  Flynn and I decided that maybe they were all at the church. They do take their religion very seriously here. It wouldn’t surprise me if, at times like this, the entire village basically went silent so that they could worship. Then again… that wouldn’t explain why it is so cold. We are still too far from winter for it to be this cold.

  The church door was locked… which was odd… this place prides itself on being open to everyone… the door has never been locked before. The village doesn’t show any signs of damage… so it doesn’t look like they locked themselves in there to protect themselves from anything.

  Flynn: “Can you pick the lock?”

  Dwynfel: “It’s been a long time since I did anything like that… but I can give it a go.”

  Flynn: “You try that, I shall check for an alternative entrance.”

  I got the lockpicks out of my bag. I genuinely think that I’ve used these things maybe twice across all the years that I have been adventuring. I practiced loads growing up. I always thought that dungeons would be full of locked chests full of gold and stuff. But that’s all just ridiculous wishful thinking. Most locks can easily be broken when you have somebody like Chloe or Damecus in your party. They’ll just smash their way through a locked door or a wooden chest.

  I had to open a metal lockbox once. But those things are rare. And I opened an old lady’s front door for her because she had locked herself out. That’s it… literally the only times that I have picked locks for any reason other than practice.

  This lock is annoyingly finicky. More likely that I’m out of practice. When I realised that lockpicking isn’t the vital essential for adventuring that I thought it would be, I pretty much stopped practising. Oh… no wait… hang on… I just need to… yup… it just clicked… I’ve got it.

  I removed my lock picks from the door and went to put them in my pack when somebody grabbed my head and smashed it off the door. A trickle of blood ran down my forehead and the pain was immense. I turned to see who it was and… just… for fuck’s sake.

  Dwynfel: “Look… can we just not… okay… this is getting silly now.”

  Kin’Ayesha: “You will die this day, goblin!”

  He charged at me with all of his strength. He tackled me and I fell backwards, slamming into the door in the process. The door swung open and my back landed on the cold stone floor of the church. He wrapped his hands around my throat and start choking me. I reached for one of my daggers… I’m done with this guy… I’m ending this… I’m ending this shit right fucking now.

  I drew my dagger and reached for his head with my free hand… if I lift his head high enough then it should expose a gap in his armour… then I can slice his bloody neck open and finish this… just a little more… just a little…

  Woman: “Sleep.”

  Suddenly, drowsiness overcame me.

  Flynn: “What the hell is going on here?”

  I saw Flynn enter the room through the door that we had collapsed through. I felt Kin’Ayesha let go of my throat and collapse down on top of me. I saw Flynn activate shadow self and draw his weapon… then I lost consciousness.