Finn went back to ask Emily about Risa, but he was not surprised that she also wasn’t sure who she was. So, he strolls through the streets, taking in his surroundings.

  Much like the first day he arrived, the town is quiet, with only a handful of men in sight. Most of the people out and about are young or married women, tending to their daily chores with children in tow.

  A few glance at him curiously, but when he tries to return the gesture with a friendly smile, they quickly avert their eyes before he can approach.

  Unbothered by their mild hostility, Finn continues exploring the marketplace, stopping at a few stalls whenever something catches his interest.

  Eventually, he comes across a little boy, no taller than Finn’s hip, selling fruit at a makeshift stall. Apart from the donkey standing beside him, the child appears to be managing the stall entirely on his own.

  Finn crouches down and asks, “Hey there, little lad. What have you got here?”

  The boy’s face lights up at the attention, his excitement barely contained. This is his chance to make his first sale today.

  “These are fruits from my mother’s farm—apples, pears, plums, and cherries! If you buy three packs, I’ll throw in an extra one for free!”

  Finn chuckles. “You’re quite the little salesman, aren’t you?”

  The boy puffs up proudly.

  “Where are your parents? You’re a bit young to be running a stall on your own.”

  The boy’s expression falters slightly, but he answers honestly, “My mum is sick, and my dad is out hunting predators. I am old enough to handle this myself.”

  Finn tilts his head, eyeing the fruit critically. “Hmm… but they don’t look that fresh to me. Are they still good?” His tone is playful, but there’s a cunning glint in his eyes.

  The boy stiffens. “O-of course! I just picked them today!”

  “Relax, I’m just teasing.” Finn grins. “What’s your name? Can’t keep calling you ‘little boy,’ can I? You can call me Finn.”

  “Jimmy.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jimmy.” Finn nods. “Tell you what, I’ll buy three packs. Actually, I’ll take everything you’ve got, but you’ll have to show me around town in return.” For just eight coins, he gets the fruit and a local guide, which seems like a good deal to him.

  Jimmy’s eyes widen. He can hardly believe what he’s hearing. “Really? Deal! Let me pack them up for you!”

  Without wasting a second, he starts yanking off price tags and stuffing the fruit into bags, moving so quickly it’s as if he’s afraid Finn will change his mind in a split second.

  “Slow down, take your time,” Finn chuckles.

  But Jimmy doesn’t hear him—he’s too busy securing the bags onto his donkey and fastening its leash, finishing in record time.

  “All done! Where do you want to go first?” Jimmy beams, his excitement bubbling over now that he no longer has to act like a mature merchant.

  Finn, amused by the boy’s enthusiasm, smiles back. “How about the places you go to the most?”

  “That’d be John and Mirabelle’s inn—I deliver fruits there every day. My dad sometimes takes me to the Hunters' Guild, and infirmary…”

  “I’ve already been to the inn and the guild. Besides the infirmary, where do the townsfolk usually gather?”

  Jimmy taps his chin, thinking. “Mum takes me to the river to wash clothes… and sometimes to the Sanctuary to pray.”

  Finn lowers his voice, his tone conspiratorial. “What about a good place to get a drink?”

  Jimmy’s face lights up. “I know just the spot! I’ll take you there!”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  And with that, their tour begins.

  Jimmy leads the way, taking his role as guide pretty seriously. He talks about everything they pass—market stalls, old fountains, bits of history, local gossip, even some embarrassing stories from his own life. Finn just listen, genuinely curious. And staying quiet makes Jimmy opens up even more.

  "You know, long ago, during the Dark Time, herds of predators invaded this town as well," Jimmy shares this story like just another event from the past. “The nuns and priests treated the casualties and put up a magic barrier to keep them out, and they held on until more knights and hunters arrived to drive the beasts away! That’s why we celebrate the Blessing Month every spring. It’s our way of saying thank you to them!

  Finn grins impeccably. “That’s quite the story.”

  By now, they’ve arrived at the Sanctuary.

  A towering, church-like structure, its spire piercing the sky like a silent guardian of the land. In spring, the temple becomes the heart of Mistwood as people celebrate Blessing Month, when the air fills with incense and quiet prayers. People come together to give thanks and ask for protection. Inside, the scent of old books and crushed herbs lingers. The walls feel worn but gentle, as if they have witnessed both pain and healing. It is a place where the weary come to rest. When Dark Time descends, it transforms into a sanctuary in the truest sense, where magicians, hunters, knights, and survivors gather to recuperate and regroup.

  Finn stands before it in silence, lost in thought. Memories flicker through his mind—one after another—but none stay long enough to take root.

  Jimmy, unbothered by Finn’s unusual quietness, keeps talking. “Mum always gets me new clothes during Blessing Month! Dad comes home from hunting, and Mum makes loads of pastries! Oh! My house is just around the corner—wanna come?”

  Finn snaps out of his daze and looks at Jimmy. “Are you sure? Didn’t you say your mum was sick?”

  Jimmy pauses, then brightens. “It’s okay! I’m old enough to get you some snacks as the protector of the house. That’s what Dad told me!”

  Finn smiles. “Well, if you insist. How could I refuse such a generous offer?”

  Jimmy leads Finn back to his house, a modest wooden cottage that shows its age but is well maintained. As they reach the door, Jimmy knocks loudly, his voice full of excitement.

  "Mum! I've brought a big guest to visit us! He bought all our fruit today!"

  A soft female voice responds from inside, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps. The door creaks open, revealing a pale-faced woman with tired eyes but a warm smile.

  "Welcome back, Jimmy. And our guest is...?"

  "Just call him Finn!" Jimmy chimes in before Finn can introduce himself.

  Finn inclines his head politely. "Hello, madam. Sorry to trouble you while you're unwell. I'm new to Mistwood, and Jimmy here has been a wonderful guide. We happened to pass by, and he suggested I visit."

  Jimmy tugs his mother’s hand. "Mum! Let’s go inside first! I can't wait to show you how much I’ve earned!"

  "Jimmy! It’s rude to say that in front of our guest!"

  Jimmy shrinks slightly under her scolding. Emma sighs and turns to Finn, bowing slightly. "I apologise for his manners, Mr Finn."

  Finn chuckles. "No need to worry. Jimmy has been a great help today."

  Jimmy grins when his mother isn't looking.

  After a few rounds of polite conversation, they settle around a wooden table. Jimmy disappears into the kitchen and returns with a platter of pastries, proudly placing them in front of their guest.

  They chat about Mistwood—the town, the people, the daily struggles. Emma also shares about stories of their small fruit farm in the backyard. When her husband, Steve, isn't out hunting, he helps maintain it. It's been a while since they had a visitor, and both mother and son do their best to be good hosts. Finn also tries to ask them about Risa, but once again, neither of them has heard of this name.

  Before Emma nudges Jimmy to serve a second plate of pastries, Finn rises from his seat. "Thank you for your hospitality, but I shouldn't bother a sick lady for too long."

  "Then take these with you," Emma insists, swiftly packing a bundle of pastries before Finn can protest, like mother, like son.

  Realising he has little choice but to accept their kindness, Finn takes the parcel with a grateful nod. "Thank you. I appreciate this."

  Later, Finn takes his leave. The sun dips low, casting long shadows between the rooftops. Mistwood glows in amber light. He walks with easy familiarity—left, right, another turn—until suddenly, he veers off into a narrow alleyway.

  A short while later, a man steps into the alley, and a deep voice echoes through the dead-end passage. “Where is he?”

  A man stands in the dim light, wearing a straw hat, a broadsword embedded with magic vault hanging at his hip.

  A sudden flicker of energy sparks in the air. The man’s straw hat catches fire, forcing him to throw it to the ground. Flames consume the hat within seconds, revealing his face.

  Before he can react further, something sharp pokes the back of his neck. He freezes.

  "Who are you?" Finn asks in a cold voice from behind. "Why have you been tailing us since the market?"

  The man stammers. "Don’t—don’t kill me! I... I’m Jimmy’s father, Steve!"

  Finn’s grip tightens. "Prove it."

  Steve swallows hard. "Trust me! You can ask my family! Or—or look at my face!"

  "I’m not about to risk you turning around and sticking a blade in me." Finn thinks for a moment, then smirks. "Alright. I’ll let you live if you can answer a question only ‘Steve’ could answer..."

  Steve waits, barely breathing.

  "What is Jimmy’s and Emma’s favourite pastry?"