Exhaustion clung to them like the dust of Eridian's parched roads. Another fruitless day chasing shadows and whispers had left Roy and his crew dragging their feet, the vibrant hues of sunset mocking their dwindling hope of unraveling the town's cyclical curse.
Suddenly, Roy froze at the sight of a familiar figure leaning against a crumbling house: a slaver he recognized from more chaotic days, a wiry man who reeked of shifty deals and half-truths. The man glanced up, caught Roy's eye, and tried to slip away.
"That scumbag," Warrex muttered, brow furrowing. "I know him. Bradd. He's grimy as they come."
Roy's lips curled in faint disgust. "What's he doing here?"
Warrex squared his shoulders. "He's definitely taking advantage of the sick, snatching up new slaves because if someone vanishes, no one questions it. That's exactly the kind of twisted logic he'd thrive on."
"Think we should confront him?" Zehrina said as she eyed the slaver as he hurried off.
Roy nodded. "He might be our lead. Warrex, tail him. You're the best at being… unobtrusive." He gave Warrex a significant look.
A spark of excitement lit Warrex's eyes, he lived for stealth missions that let him flex his honed talents. "Understood." Without further ado, he slipped away, disappearing into the thinning crowd.
The crew tried to project an air of nonchalance as they walked, but beneath the surface, a knot of anticipation tightened in their guts. Bradd's sudden appearance felt like a loose thread in the tapestry of Eridian's woes, and Roy's instincts screamed that it was worth tugging. Could this be it? The one behind the disappearances? The thought sparked a flicker of grim hope in the weary aftermath of another dead-end day.
Bradd moved fast, a rat darting through the skeletal remains of sheds and the pathetic scraggle of dying vegetable gardens. Warrex, a predator of the human variety, kept to the shadows, a silent hunter amongst the decay. Rotting fences and the rusted hulks of abandoned carts became his allies, brief respites from the open. Each time Bradd's head snapped back, a nervous flick checking for potential pursuers, Warrex became one with the grime-streaked walls, his movements as soundless as dust motes settling. The sinking sun bled across the sky, painting the landscape in hues of bruised orange and purple, and Warrex melted into the elongated silhouettes, a phantom in the fading light.
Eventually, Bradd exited Eridian proper, skirting a patch of farmland until he reached a small hut by a trickling stream. Warrex crouched behind scraggly bushes, watching Bradd knock on the door. A child opened it couldn't be more than six, bright-eyed and squealing with delight at the sight of the slaver. Bradd scooped the kid up in a gentle hug. A woman appeared in the doorway, eyes lighting up. She wore a plain dress, worry lines etched in her face.
Warrex's expression softened in confusion. This is his family? He had half expected Bradd to be carrying shackles or creeping off to some illicit meeting. Instead, the man looked relieved to see them, rummaging in a satchel to pull out meager scraps of bread and dried fish. They all seemed grateful, hugging quietly in the gloom of that humble hut.
Breaking the silence, Warrex revealed himself. "Well," he stated plainly, "it seems you're uncharacteristically clean."
Bradd jumped, clutching the child protectively. "W-Warrex, right? From the old days?" He swallowed nervously. "Look, I'm done slaving. Times got too hard. I came to see my wife and son. That's it."
Warrex narrowed his eyes. "Then why skulk around like a thief? People vanish here, and you turn up out of nowhere. What am I supposed to think?"
"Please, sir, don't scare my boy," the woman's voice trembled, her gaze fixed on Warrex as the child clutched at Bradd's leg, wide-eyed with fright.
"If you truly left that business behind, then good. But if I catch even a whiff of you selling kids from this dying town…" Warrex's voice lowered, a gravelly threat in the twilight air, "I'll do more than follow you."
"I'm serious," Bradd croaked, bobbing his head nervously. "Just jobless. Trying to keep my family alive. That's all there is to it."
Warrex didn't miss the child's fearful gaze. A pang of guilt prodded him; perhaps he had overstepped. Yet, he held his ground. "Fine," he stated, his voice firm despite the nagging unease. "Then keep it that way." He turned, his boots crunching on the dusty ground as he prepared to leave. "Next time," he added, his gaze sweeping back to Bradd, "try not to look so suspicious. This place has enough problems without your skulking."
The woman released a shaky breath, her arms tightening around her daughter. Warrex offered a curt nod, the gesture a dismissal and a silent acknowledgment of their plight, before striding off toward the main thoroughfare, leaving the small family to their meager evening in a heavy, unspoken tension.
-
The rest of the crew were scanning a patch of farmland near the estate when Warrex finally returned, expression caught somewhere between triumph and regret.
Roy raised an eyebrow. "Well? You find anything?"
Warrex shook his head. "He was visiting his family. Wife and kid. No sign of slaves or shady dealings. I confronted him anyway, threatened to break him if he reverted to his old ways."
"Must you terrify the child, too?" Roy frowned, rolling his eyes.
Warrex shrugged uncomfortably. "Better safe than sorry."
Roy let out a long sigh. "He's scum, but still… we probably wasted our energy. I was hoping he'd be behind the vanishings. But oh well, this means our real problem remains unsolved."
Eryndra chimed in, "We're better off focusing on the bigger picture anyway. We'll leave that ex-slaver alone if he's not harming anyone."
Roy grimaced. "Exactly. Let's get back to the estate. I want to speak with Val about something."
They arrived at the estate's side entrance, the sky darkening toward late evening. Val met them in a small courtyard, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Find anything new?"
Roy sighed. "No. Only a false lead." He hesitated, changing topic. "Question, if Archduke Vol can offer eight hundred gold as a reward, why's the town still so… starved? Couldn't he pour money into food imports year-round?"
Val tensed, as if uncertain. "We've been feeding the town that way for a while, but… we're running short on funds."
Roy arched an eyebrow. "But enough to drop eight hundred gold on a bounty, right?"
Val attempted a small smile but it faded quickly. "Father…Lord Vol…used to be the richest lesser royal in the kingdom, with over a million gold. But over many years, he spent a fortune paying Seranovia's taxes on every resident here, trying to lighten their burden. Plus, he supplemented harvests by buying goods elsewhere. We're under thirty thousand gold from being completely broke." He shook his head, voice heavy. "We've cut essentials. This bounty is almost the last attempt to fix the problem before there's nothing left to give."
"So, Vol was doing something," Roy murmured, the revelation a quiet counterpoint to his earlier assumptions of the archduke's apathy. A new layer of complexity shrouded the man. "All right. Understood."
Val lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry if it feels contradictory, having a reward while people starve. But we're desperate for a solution."
Roy's eyes flicked to Eryndra, who wore a thoughtful expression. Zehrina crossed her arms, saying nothing but absorbing every detail. Warrex listened quietly, arms folded.
After a moment, Roy let out a breath and tapped the phone clipped to his belt. "I was going to wait on this, but… you know what? Let's try something. Serenity, can you hear me?"
A burst of static, then Serenity's voice emerged. "Yes, Captain, although I'm trying to ignore this third bud's quasi thoughts in the background… gah, shut it, you worthless sprout! Sorry, Captain, go ahead."
Roy suppressed a small laugh. "All right, ring up the Presidroids. Tell them to organize a base-model squad. Load nine pallets of general food, fruits, vegetables, cuts of meat, into the helicopter. Then add twenty pallets of high-quality flour and twenty pallets of canned goods. We'll distribute here in Eridian's central plaza. Show them how to open cans tomorrow if they don't know."
Val let out a short, incredulous laugh, apparently thinking Roy was mocking him. "Very funny, Captain Gunn. As if the so-called 'Slave Beater' could be that generous."
Suddenly, Roy's mana flared, blazing in an almost visible surge. A wave of pressure rippled through the courtyard, his fury at the hated rumor igniting unrestrained. The air crackled, and bright arcs of light danced around him.
Val quickly bowed his head. "I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"
Eryndra and Zehrina braced themselves, while Warrex slapped Roy sharply on the tailbone. Roy let out a yelp so shrill it barely sounded like him, and the mana surge vanished instantly.
"Damn it, Warrex!" Roy snapped, cheeks burning with embarrassment. "That was my tailbone!"
Warrex shook his hand out. "I aimed for your butt, you whiny brat. You nearly blinded me." Lutrian stepped in between them, sighing at the minor scuffle.
Val, still regaining composure, bowed apologetically. "I truly thought you were joking… Captain Gunn, I'm sorry."
Roy forced a breath, cheeks still flushed. "Whatever." He tried to gather his composure, then forced a polite nod. "Let's just get it done."
---
Within the hour, choppers from the Nightshatter soared overhead guided by Serenity's instructions. A string of Presidroids lowered pallets of fresh produce, bundled meats, sacks of flour, and dozens of neatly stacked cans. Townspeople gathered in the central plaza, drawn by the thunderous noise. Their eyes filled with a mix of awe and confusion, uncertain whether to trust the arrival of so much free food.
Roy stood near a stack of crates, letting the crowd see him in broad daylight. Teddy, eager to help, flapped a crude makeshift banner that read "THUNder RIDEr!" in wobbly letters. Roy wasn't sure whether to cringe or laugh, but he opted to let it ride, thinking it might help the people recognize who was behind this generosity.
He stepped up on a small box, raising his voice. "This is for you! Fruits, vegetables, meat! No cost! Use it to get your strength back. We'll show you how to store it. Tomorrow, we'll demonstrate how to open these canned goods if anyone's unfamiliar."
A rumble of murmurs coursed through the gathering. Some rushed forward, hesitant but hungry. Others hung back, half-suspicious. Eventually, as Roy repeated assurances, more villagers approached the crates, eyes lighting up at the sight of real, fresh produce.
Val observed from a short distance, jaw tight with relief. Warrex, Eryndra, and Zehrina helped direct the distribution, though Warrex mostly stood guard, ensuring no one was trampled. Roy smiled at the timid thanks from a young mother clutching a bag of apples. He couldn't fix the cyclical decay overnight, but at least they could eat well for a while.
---
Roy and his exhausted crew retired for the evening after a long day's work. As families left the plaza to prepare dinner, a sense of calm settled. Roy exchanged tired smiles with Eryndra and Zehrina, Warrex wearily following them back to their guest rooms. Lutrian muttered about contacting the Nightshatter to arrange the next supply delivery. For the moment, everything seemed peaceful.
But aboard the Nightshatter, Takara paced the deck like a caged animal. She'd heard Roy's broadcast about dropping supplies and bristled at the fact that she was stuck here while everyone else got to solve mysteries on the ground. I'm no child, she told herself, teeth clenched.
So as twilight deepened, she quietly readied a small backpack, slid on her runic gauntlets, and slipped onto a small dinghy. Once the cover of darkness cloaked the river, she rowed for the Eridian shore, determined to see for herself what the crew was facing.
She wandered the dim, winding streets, half-lit by sparse lanterns. The hush felt thick, but she pressed on, scanning each alley for any sign of trouble or clues. Maybe I can gather intel they missed, she thought. Prove my worth so Roy stops babying me. Night air carried the faint hum of crickets and the rustle of old shutters.
Rounding a corner near some abandoned warehouses, she sensed movement in the gloom. A tall figure, robed or cloaked, drifted into the lamplight for just an instant before pulling back into shadow.
"Hello?" Takara called, forcing her voice to remain steady. "Who's there?"
Silence.
Her instincts flared. She slipped a gauntlet on, letting subtle arcs of runic energy swirl around her wrist. She took a cautious step forward. The figure moved faster than she anticipated, lunging in a blur. A rough hand clamped at her collar, and she barely twisted free, lashing out with a quick jab to keep them back.
It worked for half a heartbeat, her gauntlet crackled, sending a stun jolt into the assailant's arm. But the figure was alarmingly strong. They shook off the jolt and swung a powerful blow that sent her reeling. Takara's back hit a pile of crates, knocking the wind from her chest.
Grunting, she forced herself up, trying to see any detail of the attacker's face. Darkness obscured their features. She caught only a faint whiff of an oddly fresh scent, like a strange cologne. She recognized it, though she couldn't place from where. Who the hell—
She attempted a second blast with her gauntlet, but the cloaked figure closed in, pinning her against the alley wall. Her heart hammered with a surge of fear and anger. She swung a knee, connecting with the attacker's midsection, enough to loosen their grip. Then she ducked aside, nearly falling on the slick cobblestones.
Light exploded from behind the attacker as Warrex's voice rang out, "Takara! Hang on!" Eryndra was with him, eyes blazing. They'd been patrolling the outskirts for any sign of trouble, startled by unusual noises.
Cornered by two formidable fighters, the cloaked figure hissed and bolted with impossible speed, vanishing into the labyrinth of alleys before Warrex or Eryndra could intercept.
Eryndra rushed to Takara's side. "You all right?"
Takara trembled, still bristling with adrenaline. "Y-yeah. That was… a whole lot of power they had." Her voice shook with lingering shock. "I only got a partial look… but that smell… it was vile. I don't know how to describe it." She pressed her palm to her temple, trying to think. "Like lavender and iron."
Warrex spun, scanning the darkness. "Whatever it was, it's gone now. You're lucky we heard the struggle."
Takara swallowed hard, hating how vulnerable she felt. "Thanks. Guess… guess I shouldn't have snuck out alone."
Eryndra let out a sigh that was half-relief, half-exasperation. "You definitely shouldn't have. Roy is going to freak." She took Takara's arm gently. "Come on, let's get you somewhere safe."
Warrex offered a grim nod. "We'll keep an eye out. No one attacks our crew unpunished."