Elara stirred, her eyes opening to light filtering through the window. She sat up slowly, her mind still foggy with sleep. The others must already have left.

  A pang of sadness struck her. They had left without waking her, without giving her a chance to wish them well on their journey.

  With a heavy sigh, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and padded over to the window. She gazed out at the sprawling plains they had traversed to reach the inn, the tall grasses swaying in the breeze.

  Her mood was subdued. She had grown accustomed to the constant presence of others. Now, the silence of the room felt oppressive.

  She returned to the bed, sinking down onto the mattress with a sigh. She curled into a fetal position, hugging her legs tightly. Though she knew she should get dressed and head downstairs, she lingered. Her gaze drifted to the obsidian cuff still clasped around her wrist, Flamebeard's parting gift.

  She turned her arm, studying the dark metal that had lifted the sky fortress's barrier. She unfastened it, holding it up to scrutinize it. What other secrets might it hold?

  The obsidian gleamed, its surface smooth and cool to the touch. She turned it over, examining it from every angle.

  Her mind drifted to Flamebeard. She wondered where he was now, if he had found the freedom he so desperately sought. A part of her longed to see him again, to share with him all that had happened since their parting.

  But another part of her knew their paths had diverged, that she needed to find her own way in this world.

  With a sigh, she put the cuff on and rose from the bed. She knew she couldn't stay here forever, lost in her thoughts and memories. She needed to face the day, to figure out her next step.

  She dressed slowly and meticulously, taking her time to don each piece of her armor. The familiar weight settled onto her shoulders.

  With a final tug to ensure everything was in place, she made her way down the stairs. Her footsteps echoed in the empty inn, the silence broken only by the creaking of the wooden steps beneath her feet.

  As she reached the bottom, she noticed the door to the outside stood open. She stepped closer, peering out into the bright sunlight.

  There, just outside, stood Kurda. The innkeeper leaned against the wall, a wooden pipe dangling from his lips. Tendrils of smoke curled lazily into the air, dissipating in the gentle breeze.

  "Good morning," Elara called out, stepping through the doorway.

  Kurda glanced over at her, nodding in acknowledgment. "Morning," he grunted around the pipe.

  Elara's gaze lingered on the pipe, watching as Kurda took another deep drag. The innkeeper noticed her stare and raised an eyebrow.

  "I'm not sharing," he said gruffly, his words muffled by the pipe.

  Elara shook her head. "I didn't expect you to."

  Kurda grunted again, satisfied with her response. He took another puff; the smoke drifting out in a steady stream.

  "If you're looking for breakfast, ask Lana," he said, jerking his head towards the inn. "She's my apprentice."

  She nodded her thanks to Kurda and turned back towards the inn. If Lana was Kurda's apprentice and it was breakfast time, she reasoned, the kitchen would be the most likely place to find her.

  She stepped inside, her footsteps echoing in the empty common room. The bar stood vacant, the stools neatly lined up in a row. She hesitated, unsure if she should call out or go into the kitchen herself.

  As she stood there unsure of how to act, the door to the kitchen swung open and a young woman stepped out. Elara's eyes immediately went to her vibrant red hair, pulled back into a high ponytail secured by what appeared to be a thorny vine.

  Lana's eyes, a muted green, met Elara's. A smile spread across her face as she approached, wiping her hands on her apron.

  "You must be Elara," Lana said, her voice warm and welcoming. "Kurda mentioned you'd be staying with us for a bit. Breakfast?"

  Elara returned the smile, nodding. "Yes, that's me. It's nice to meet you, Lana."

  Elara smile was forced, trying to push aside her conflicting emotions. While she appreciated Esme's concern for her well-being, a part of her bristled at the fact that the warrior had shared her real name without permission. Not that Elara had a good reason for using an alias, she simply felt that the decision to reveal her true name should have been hers alone.

  "Breakfast sounds great, thank you," she said, her tone polite despite her inner turmoil.

  Lana nodded, her smile never wavering. "I'll be right back with something for you." She headed back into the kitchen, leaving Elara alone with her thoughts.

  As she waited, she couldn't help but wonder why Esme had felt the need to share her name. Did she not trust Elara to make her own choices? Or had she simply not considered the implications of her actions? Elara sighed, running a hand through her hair.

  The sound of footsteps drew her attention, and she looked up to see Lana emerging from the kitchen, a steaming bowl in her hands. The scent of the food wafted towards Elara, making her stomach growl in anticipation.

  "Here you go," Lana said, setting the bowl down on the bar in front of Elara.

  Elara thanked her, picking up the spoon and stirring the contents of the bowl. It appeared to be some kind of porridge, studded with bits of dried fruit and nuts. She took a tentative bite, pleasantly surprised by the flavor.

  As she ate, Lana leaned on the counter across from her, watching her with curious eyes. "So, what brings you to these parts?" she asked, her tone friendly.

  "I'm just passing through," Elara responded, settling on a vague response. "My companions and I were on our way to Heimshore, but they had to leave without me."

  Lana nodded, her expression sympathetic. "I'm sorry to hear that. Sounds tough."

  Elara shrugged, taking another bite of her porridge. "I'll manage," she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

  Lana leaned forward, her elbows resting on the counter as she fixed her with an intent gaze. "You know, since you're going to be staying here for a bit, you should help out around the inn."

  Elara hesitated, unsure of what exactly Lana had in mind. She had no experience working in an inn, and the thought of taking on unfamiliar tasks made her nervous. But she also knew that she couldn't just sit around doing nothing while she waited for her companion to return.

  "I suppose I could," she said carefully, trying to gauge Lana's reaction. "What did you have in mind?"

  Lana's face split into a grin, her green eyes sparkling with delight. "Great! I have the perfect job for you, something easy that's just right for a rogue like yourself."

  Elara's suspicion grew at Lana's words. And what kind of job could she possibly have that would be suited to someone with Elara's class?

  She focused her Inspect skill on Lana.

  [Artisan lvl 56]

  Made sense Kurda's apprentice had the same class as himself. Lana’s voice cut into her thoughts. “I’ll give you the details later,” she said casually, already turning away toward the kitchen. “For now, just finish your breakfast. I'll come find you."

  Elara watched her go, her gaze lingering on the closing door. Slowly, she glanced back at her half-eaten bowl of porridge. She stirred it idly with her spoon, the taste suddenly clinging too thickly in her throat.

  With a sigh, she pushed the bowl away and rose to her feet. The chair scraped against the wooden floor, its sound too loud in the room's quiet. Fresh air, she needed fresh air.

  Stepping outside, the sunlight hit her face, warm but not comforting. She squinted, adjusting to the brightness as her eyes landed on Kurda. Still leaning against the wall, his pipe balanced lazily between his lips.

  He glanced over at her, one eyebrow raised in a silent question.

  Elara shook her head, her meaning clear: not now. Without a word, she lowered herself to the ground, leaning back against the wall. She stared straight ahead, letting the hum of the day settle around her, though her thoughts remained far from still. The warmth of the sun did little to lift her spirits.

  Kurda's gruff voice broke through her musings. "Want a smoke?" he asked.

  Elara looked up at him, a hint of amusement in her eyes despite her somber mood. "Didn't you say you wouldn't share?" she asked, recalling his earlier words.

  Kurda grumbled, shrugging his shoulders. "That was earlier. Now is now."

  A laugh escaped Elara's lips at his response, the sound surprising even to herself. It felt good to laugh, even if only for a moment. She shook her head, declining his offer. "No, thank you."

  "Good," Kurda grunted, bringing the pipe back to his lips. "It tastes horrible."

  Her smile lingered as she watched him take another puff. She appreciated his attempt to cheer her up.

  She leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes for a moment. The sounds of the surrounding area filled her ears, the rustling of leaves in the breeze, the occasional chirp of a bird. And footsteps.

  "There you are!" Lana's voice cut through the peaceful atmosphere. "Ready to start?"

  Elara opened her eyes to find Lana standing over her, hands on her hips. With a sigh, she pushed herself to her feet, dusting off her pants.

  "Follow me," Lana said, already heading back inside. "It's something we have to do nearly every day."

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  The cool darkness of the inn enveloped them as they stepped inside. Lana led her past the common room toward a heavy wooden door set on the floor.

  "The cellar," Lana announced, pulling the door open. "We need to clear out the rats." Elara blinked. Rats?

  "Every day?" she asked, unable to keep the disbelief from her voice. The absurdity of it struck her. Here she was, being tasked with rat removal.

  "Nearly," Lana confirmed, reaching for a lantern. "They breed like... well, rats."

  Elara stared down into the darkness of the cellar. Was this some kind of cosmic joke? A starting quest she'd skipped by appearing in that fortress? She'd faced wolves and giant spiders, yet somehow rats in a cellar seemed more daunting.

  "Do they multiply every time you blink or something?" Elara muttered, more to herself than Lana.

  Lana burst into laughter, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "They actually do! Never seen anything like it. We clear them out, and the next day there's twice as many."

  Elara's lips pressed into a thin line. She failed to see the humor in an endless cycle of rat removal. Still, she squared her shoulders. It wasn't like she had anything better to do while waiting for Esme to return.

  "Here." Lana thrust a burlap sack into Elara's hands. "For the bodies. Don't want to leave them down there to rot."

  The rough fabric scratched against Elara's palms as she took the sack. Lana passed her the lantern next, its flame casting dancing shadows across the cellar entrance.

  "Good luck!" Lana called out cheerfully as Elara descended the wooden steps.

  The stairs creaked under her weight, each step echoing in the confined space. The air grew cooler and mustier as she made her way down, the lantern's light revealing rows of barrels and shelves stocked with provisions.

  She held the lantern out, its flame casting long shadows across the cellar floor. A flicker of movement caught her eye. No, not movement. A shadow stretched across the packed earth near the bottom of the steps.

  Her heart quickened. The burlap sack slipped from her fingers, landing with a soft thump on the ground. Her hand moved to the Solstice Shard at her belt, drawing it with ease. The familiar weight of the dagger steadied her nerves.

  She crept forward, using her Soft Footing skill to silence her approach. The shadows danced with her movement, making it difficult to distinguish what lay ahead.

  Her fingers tightened around the lantern's handle as she extended it further, trying to illuminate whatever lurked in the darkness. The light caught something, a patch of matted fur.

  A rat lay sprawled on its side, unnaturally still. Its whiskers didn't twitch, its chest didn't rise and fall with breath. Dead.

  Confusion crept through her mind as she inched closer. This wasn't right. Rats didn't just die in the open like this. They hid away in corners, in walls, anywhere dark and secluded. Not out in the middle of the floor, not right at the bottom of the steps where anyone could find them.

  She crouched beside the rat, holding the lantern closer. The flame cast enough light to reveal a precise wound at the base of its skull, a clean puncture no wider than a pencil. Her stomach turned as she noticed the creature's true size. Its bulk matched that of a small dog.

  Dried blood matted the fur around the wound, making it dark and crusty. She traced the air above the injury with her finger, noting the downward angle. Whoever, or whatever, had done this had struck from above, driving the weapon down through the spine.

  Her hand tightened around the Solstice Shard. The clinical precision of the kill spoke of intent. This wasn't the messy work of a trap or poison. Someone had deliberately stalked and executed this creature.

  Setting the lantern down, she ran her fingers along the rat's flank. The body was still soft, not yet stiff with death. Fresh kill then, probably within the last hour. Her heart picked up speed as she realized the implications. The killer could still be down here.

  The rat's size bothered her more than the wound. She'd seen a few rats in her time, but never one this large. Its head alone was the size of her fist, with yellowed incisors as long as her thumb. What kind of rats was Lana dealing with down here?

  She shuddered at the thought of encountering a pack of these monstrous rats. Thank the stars for her Voidwalk ability. If things went south, she could teleport right back up those stairs.

  The question of what killed the rat nagged at her mind. But who would go through the trouble of executing cellar rats and leaving them in the open?

  Leaving the corpse where it lay, she lifted the lantern and moved deeper into the cellar. The light revealed neat rows of barrels and crates, each labeled with neat handwriting. Wine vintages, preserved meats, dried fruits, everything arranged with meticulous care.

  The shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, crafted from sturdy wood and reinforced with iron bands. Not a speck of dust marred their surface. Even the floor had been swept clean, save for the occasional paw print in the packed earth.

  She ran her fingers along one shelf, impressed by the organization. For all his gruff exterior, Kurda clearly took pride in maintaining his stores. Each item had its place, each section clearly marked and inventoried.

  The air grew cooler as she ventured further in, carrying the crisp scent of apples and the sharper tang of fermenting wine.

  Another rat corpse lay sprawled near a stack of wine barrels, the same precise wound at the base of its skull. Elara's fingers traced the air above the injury, confirming her suspicions, identical angle, identical execution.

  She found two more as she ventured deeper into the cellar, their massive bodies arranged in a deliberate line that led her forward. The precision of each kill unsettled her. Had Lana done this? Was this some kind of test, leaving her to collect the bodies like some macabre scavenger hunt?

  A heavy thud behind her broke through her thoughts. Elara spun around, the lantern light catching the fresh corpse of another rat that had dropped to the ground. Blood still seeped from the wound at its neck, forming a dark pool on the ground.

  Her heart hammered in her chest as she lifted the lantern higher, its light revealing nothing but shadows among the shelves. Slowly, she raised her gaze upward.

  Light blue eyes with slitted pupils stared back at her from the darkness above, unblinking and predatory. Elara's breath caught in her throat. How had she walked right past this creature without noticing? Her fingers tightened around the Solstice Shard, but her body remained frozen under that gaze.

  The creature dropped onto a nearby crate with liquid grace, landing without a sound. Elara stumbled back, her heel catching on the uneven floor. The lantern swayed in her grip, casting wild shadows across the cellar.

  Her racing heart slowed as the light settled on the creature's form. Sleek grey fur covered its body, unmarred save for a splash of white across its chest. But what caught her attention were the extra appendages, a second set of paws nestled near its neck, that looked like arms. One of these additional limbs moved, showing off a small, silver gleaming spear, while the other wiped blood from its whiskers.

  A cat. An unusual one, but still just a cat. Its ears swiveled toward her, and those light blue eyes regarded her with typical feline indifference. The creature was smaller than she'd initially feared as it sat regally on the crate.

  She couldn't help but stare, her mind wrestling with the absurdity of a weapon-wielding cat. The creature adjusted its grip on the spear with a flick of its paw, as if it had been born to use it, the motion fluid and practiced.

  Elara cleared her throat, her voice echoing in the cellar's silence. "I'm here to collect the rats. Lana sent me." The words felt ridiculous as they left her mouth. The cat's expression remained unchanged, those unnerving blue eyes fixed on her every movement.

  Her hand twitched, muscle memory urging her to extend a finger in greeting like she used to do with the cats that lounged in her neighbor's garden. But those cats hadn't wielded weapons. This creature had systematically hunted and killed rats twice its size.

  The cat's grip shifted on its miniature spear, the silver metal catching the lantern light. Elara's finger remained firmly at her side.

  Taking measured steps backward, she kept her eyes on the strange feline as she made her way to where she'd dropped the burlap sack. The cat's head turned, tracking her movement with predatory focus, but it made no aggressive moves.

  Elara crouched slowly, her free hand fumbling for the sack while maintaining her grip on the lantern. The rough fabric scratched against her palm as she lifted it. The first rat lay close, its massive bulk even more imposing now that she had to actually move it.

  Setting the lantern down, she grabbed the rat's tail, trying not to think about how recently it had been alive. The corpse was heavier than she'd expected, and she had to use both hands to drag it toward the sack. Above her, the cat watched with what she could have sworn was amusement, its fluffy tail swishing back and forth across the crate's surface.

  Elara dragged the heavy sack toward the next rat corpse, her muscles straining against the growing weight. The lantern swayed with each step, casting dancing shadows across the cellar floor. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she heaved the second massive rat into the sack.

  The next corpse lay near a stack of wine barrels. Its bulk matched the others, and the same precise wound marked its neck. As she stuffed it into the sack, a soft thud behind her made her jump. The cat had leaped down from its perch, landing silently on the ground.

  Her heart raced as she watched it pad closer, its spear still clutched in one of its extra limbs. But instead of attacking, the cat simply walked past her, its tail held high. A few paces away, it sat and turned those unsettling blue eyes toward her, clearly expecting her to follow.

  Elara hesitated, glancing between the cat and her half-filled sack. The creature's tail twitched impatiently. With a sigh, she grabbed both the lantern and the sack, dragging them along as she followed her unusual guide.

  The cat led her deeper into the cellar, weaving between barrels and crates with ease. It stopped near a corner, where two more rat corpses lay sprawled on the ground. These notably smaller than their counterparts, closer to the size of normal rats. The same precise wounds marked their necks, testament to the cat's accuracy with its tiny spear.

  The cat moved with purpose, its extra limbs tucked close to its body as it led her from one rat corpse to the next. Each time they found another kill, it would sit and wait, those unnerving blue eyes fixed on her until she'd stuffed the body into her increasingly heavy sack.

  The morning stretched on as they worked their way through the cellar. Elara lost count of how many rats they'd collected, though the strain in her muscles suggested it was more than a dozen. Most weren’t as massive as the first few, the rest were smaller, barely larger than normal rats.

  The cat seemed to have a pattern to its hunting, systematically clearing sections of the cellar. It showed her kills hidden behind barrels, tucked under shelves, and even one wedged between two wine casks. Each corpse bore the same precise wound.

  Sweat dampened her shirt under her armor as she worked, the cool air of the cellar doing little to ease her exertion. The cat appeared unfazed by her obvious fatigue, maintaining its steady pace as it led her deeper into the storage area.

  The cat paused at one more rat corpse, waiting expectantly as Elara added it to her burden. Her arms trembled from the strain of dragging the now-full sack. Without warning, the creature turned and began padding back the way they came, its spear still clutched in one of its extra appendages.

  "Thank you," Elara called after it, the words echoing off the stone walls. "For showing me where they all were."

  The cat stopped, those unsettling blue eyes fixing on her face. Its tail swished once, twice, before it changed direction. Elara's breath caught as it approached her feet, its gaze never leaving her face. She forced herself to remain still, though every instinct screamed at her to step back from the armed creature.

  The cat's head tilted, considering. Its extra limbs adjusted the grip on its spear. Before Elara could react, it launched itself at her. She flinched but didn't move as tiny claws caught in her leather armor. The cat scaled her with ease, settling itself across her shoulders like a living scarf.

  Elara's muscles tensed as the cat made itself comfortable. Its warmth seeped through her armor, and she felt its tail curl around her neck. The spear, still clutched in one of its extra limbs, rested against her collarbone, a constant reminder of the creature's deadly precision.

  Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the heavy sack and started toward the stairs. The cat's weight shifted with each step, but it maintained perfect balance. Its purr vibrated through her shoulders, the sound both comforting and unnerving with the spear so close.

  The wooden steps groaned under their combined weight. Sweat trickled down her back as she dragged the sack up, the burlap scraping against each step. The cat's claws flexed against her armor, but never broke through it.

  Relief flooded through her as she reached the top. Her arms shook from exhaustion as she released the sack. It hit the floor with a heavy thud; the contents shifting with a disturbing rustle.

  Footsteps approached, and Lana appeared around the corner. A wide grin spread across her face at the sight of the bulging sack.

  "You did it!" Lana's eyes sparkled with amusement.

  Elara wiped sweat from her forehead. "Which part," she asked, her voice rough with fatigue, "of hauling dead rats made this a job for a rogue?"

  Lana's laugh echoed through the hallway. She bent down, grabbed the sack, and walked away without answering, leaving Elara standing there with her unusual feline companion still perched on her shoulders.

  Elara turned her head slightly, meeting those unsettling blue eyes mere inches from her face. "Do you have a name?" The cat's purr deepened, but otherwise it gave no response, maintaining that unnervingly direct stare. Its whiskers twitched, catching the dim light.

  Her finger itched to reach out and scratch under that furry chin. The cat looked so soft, its grey fur pristine despite its deadly profession. Its ears perked forward, giving it an almost innocent appearance that contrasted sharply with the deadly weapon it wielded.

  Slowly, Elara lifted her left hand. The cat watched the movement, its purr never faltering. She inched her fingers closer to that adorable face, imagining how plush that fur would feel.

  The slight pressure of the spear against her collarbone increased just enough to make its point. Elara froze, her hand hovering in mid-air. The cat's purr continued, but those blue eyes had narrowed ever so slightly.

  "Right. Message received." Elara lowered her hand, trying to ignore the internal wail of disappointment. It wasn't fair for something to look so pettable while being so clearly dangerous. Her fingers twitched with the denied opportunity to sink into that soft-looking fur and squeeze those adorable cheeks.