Rain and thunder clashed against the cobblestone streets a violent symphony echoing through the bones of the city.
This was Hydrgateia. A place known for only three things:
Endless rain.
Swarro, the black rain baird said to mimic the voices of the dead.
And mana stones, a rare ore formed from crystallized, raw and pure mana.
On the outskirts of that ever-weeping city, a carriage stood still, drawn by a restless Azhinx, its featured mane slick with water.
Inside, Ifa and Grathe say in the silence, watching the rain pour like shattered glass against the window.
Their path forward had been severed by a landslide, followed by a newly-formed stream that no surged like a newborn river across the muddy road.
"Sir... I'm afraid you'll have to walk from here." The driver said, glancing back through the small opening in the carriage wall.
"Can't we go another way?" Ifa asked, already dreading the answer.
"We could...but the detour would take at least two more days."
Ifa groaned. "It's already been three days since we started this trip. I really don't want to camp again."
Grathe adjusted his coat and lifted his briefcase with a quite sigh. "Let's just walk. It's only about five hundred eighty yards."
"The terrain's a message from the rain." Ifa said, peering out the window. "The road are all torn up."
She scowled at the fogged glass. "I don't want to climb a muddy hill in this stupid weather...or ruin my boots. Again."
"Quite acting like a child. Let's go." Grathe said, stepping outside. As soon as he did, a cone-shaped barrier shimmered to life above his head, shielding him from the rain.
"Oh, easy for you to say." Ifa muttered, reluctantly scooting towards the carriage door. "We Sun Elves hate rain."
"I thought that was just a myth." Grathe said, extending his hand to her.
With a hiff, she took it grudgingly. "As I thought... ignorant humans don't know anything."
Her boot sank into the muddy ground the moment she stepped down, and she scowled. "Ugh. Disgusting."
She flicked her fingers, forming a shimmering barrier above her head to shield herself from the rain.
"If you want, I could use Liliya to carry—"
"No thanks!" Ifa snapped, jerking her hand away. Her expression twisted into a mix of disgust and fear.
Grathe smirked. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little doll."
"I just... don't like it." She muttered, then suddenly darted ahead, only to slip in the mud with a squeal and land flat on her side.
Grathe blinked, then walked over with a sigh. "Are you okay?" He asked, offering his hand again.
She groaned, grabbing it, and let him pull her up. "I'm fine." She grumbled, brushing frantically at the mud streaking her coat. "I just...had a bad experience with a haunted doll."
Grathe raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you've actually seen a haunted doll?"
"I have nothing against you or your doll." She said stiffly, still trying to salvage her dignity. "But I can't help feeling disgusted whenever I see one."
Then she looked him dead in the eye. "But the moment your doll becomes haunted... I'll kill it. No hesitation."
Grathe stared. "...Noted."
"Let's not dilly-dally...and find her already." Ifa said, brushing off the last bit of mud.
"Okay then." Grathe replied with a small nod, stepping forward, Ifa trailing close behind.
"...Do you think, she made that thing?" Ifa asked quietly, glancing up at him.
Grathe didn't look back. "Only one way to find out."
They walked in silence, the rain pattering softly over their magical barriers.
Meanwhile, Kael stood watch in the inner district of Dorja, his expression hard as stone, though a flicker of sorrow lingered in his eyes.
Behind him, families wept and pleased for answers, their cries echoing through the streets.
He stared at the town's news board, now cluttered with flyers and tear-streaked notices.
Forty-nine people were missing.
Thirty-two children, and seventeen adults.
All vanished... because of the Skeleton Fisherman's bait.
"Aren't you supposed to be protecting our children?!" A man suddenly shouted, voice raw and broken.
"Why are you knights so useless?!" He screamed, eyes burning with fury as the glared at the four knights around him, Kael being one of them.
"He's been missing for two days..." The man's voice cracked. Then, the anger gave way to sobbing.
"You know what hurts the most?" He said, trembling. "It's hopping... hopping he's been taken by some filthy thugs..."
He collapsed to his knees, weeping uncontrollably.
"Please...I began you..." He whispered, hand folded in desperate prayer. "Keep my son safe."
Because even the thought of him begin taken by thugs. Was better than imagining he'd been claimed by the Skeleton Fisherman.
Kael gulped hard, his throat tight as he watched the man collapse in prayer.
He had seen scenes like this far too often, parents begging, pleading, crying, but no matter how many times, it never got easier.
It was always hard to watch. Hard to hear. Hard still to swallow the reality they all lived in.
His gaze drifted across the crowd. More parents. More families. All weeping. All broken.
And then, in a blur, something flickered at the edge of his vision.
A flash of unmistakable pink twintails. Each one tied with golden dragon-head hairbands.
His breath caught in his chest.
Chloe. It has to be.
The figure moved swiftly, too swiftly, disappearing into the narrow space between the buildings.
Kael lunged forward, dashing through the crowd. "Chloe!"
But when he reached the spot, she was gone
As if she'd vanished into the mist.
"If you're looking for the pink-haired girl, she went that way " a child-like voice called out, oddly casual, but slurred.
What stood out more than the words, was the heavy stench of alcohol.
Kael spun around, then instinctively looked down, meeting the eyes of a small girl sitting at the edge of the road, casually sipping from a massive bottle nearly half her size.
The smell radiating from her was unbearable. Kael nearly covered his nose, but held back, not wanting to appear rude.
"...Thank you." He said instead, bowing slightly.
The girl grinned. "I can help you find her. I've got a sharp eye..." She tapped her uncovered tample.
"...and an even sharp nose." She stood up, wobbling just slightly, alcohol clinging to her like a second skin.
Kael took a wary step back, eyes scanning her from head to toe.
She was small, barefoot, with a short, airy bob of snow-white hair. One of her bright red eyes gleamed at him, while the other was hidden beneath bandages.
Her clothes were a patchwork of rags, stitched together with with uneven thread. And above that she wore an old rag hood which shadowed the bandaged part of her face.
And her body was almost entirely wrapped in bandages: arms, legs, even her neck and stomach.
And on each of her index fingers, a small white ribbon was tied.
Kael felt something deeply off about her.
Not just the booze. Not just the bandages. But something beneath it all.
"Thank you..." He replied, though inside, hundreds of warning bells were ringing.
She started walking in a zigzag. Wobbling and tumbling, then raised her index finger, pointing straight ahead.
"Follow me, and don't fall behind." She said. With that, she pulled down her hood and took off running. Her posture suddenly sharpened, steady, precise, perfect.
Kael froze for a heartbeat, stunned. Then chased after her.
"Are you sure she went this way?" Kael asked.
"Yes. I can smell her, and..." She said, stopping abruptly.
She raised the bottle to her lips, took a deep gulp, then muttered.
"I smell monsters."
Meanwhile, at the Merchant Guild of Hydrgateia, Ifa and Grathe were searching for information about Chloe.
"I heard she came here?" Grathe asked, holding up a picture of Chloe.
"Sorry, sir, but we can't give out any information. Guild policy." A merchant replied curtly.
Grathe and Ifa exchanged glances, then revealed their badges.
The merchant's face paled slightly. "I-I'll speak with the manager. Please wait here." He said, bowing and hurrying off.
A few minutes later, a long-headed dwarf strode towards them, carrying a big war hammer, flanked by the same merchant and two sturdy bodyguards.
Grathe studied the dwarf carefully, he looked to be somewhere between two and four hundred years old.
His snowy beard dragged along the floor, and he stood at about hundred forty centimetres tall, his body packed with thick muscle.
He wore leather armour over a custom-fitted navy blue suit and red tie.
"My name is Boldure. It is an honour to meet a Royal Mage." He said, slamming his war hammer to the ground. A traditional dwarven gesture of respect towards those of higher rank.
"May I see the picture of the individual you're searching for?" Boldure asked, fingers idly dragging through his long beard.
Grathe nodded, pulling the photograph from his coat and handing it over.
"Her name is Chloe Windtalker.At first, we believed she was missing..." He paused, his jaw tightening ever so slightly.
"...but now she's a potential suspect." His voice dropped, laced with a quiet sorrow.
"Suspect of creating a replica of the Skeleton Fisherman."
"So, can you provide us with any information about her whereabouts? Or perhaps what she bought from this guild?" Ifa asked, stepping in.
Boldure hesitated, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple, after a moment, he gave a silent nod and gesture for one of the bodyguard to fetch something.
As the guards walked off, Boldure adjusted his tie, trying to steady his composure.
"I don't know where she is now." He said slowly. "But I can give you the receipt."
"Y'know... I had a gut feeling about her, back when she bought all those items. "Boldure muttered, dabbing sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.
"What items did she buy?" Grathe asked, voice firm.
"She said...she was going to cook for a group of Knights stationed on the front lines." Boldure replied, shifting uneasily.
"But yesterday...we received word that hundreds of those knights are missing, they don't since when, but..."
His foot began to tap, nervous, anxious. "I wasn't sure it was her...but now..." He trailed off.
Then he looked up at them, voice trembling. "Do you think she used that creature to kill them?"
Ifa and Grathe turned to each other, no wors needed. They both knew.
The ghosts they fought that night, were the missing knights.
Grathe turned to face forward, his voice heavy.
"I'm afraid...it is the case."
The dwarf covered his face with one hand, guilt etched into his features. At that moment, the guard returned a slip of paper to Grathe.
He took the receipt, his eyes scanning it.
And then his expression darkened.
"What is it?" Ifa asked stepping closer.
She looked at the paper over his shoulder and her face fell too.
The list of things Chloe had purchased was:
Eighty live Swarro,
Fifty Swarro meat,
Hundred small mana stones,
Thirty medium mana stone and,
Two large mana stone.
Grathe swallowed hard.
"This...this is enough to create a replica of Archdemon."
"Yeah...but still, why would she buy Swarro meat?" Ifa asked, scratching her head.
"Yeah, it is weird." Grathe admitted. "But maybe she really was cooking from them."
Ifa gulped. "You think...she used the food to knock them out?"
Grathe nodded grimly. "Exactly. She laced with a sleeping agent."
"I—I'm sorry..." Boldure whimpered. "She said the mana stone were for the Knights...if only I had known...gods, I'm sorry..."
Grathe stepped forward and gently placed a hand on the dwarf's shoulder.
"It's okay." He said softl, his voice calm but tired.
Then he bowed respectfully. "Thank you for the information."
Ifa followed his lead and bowed as well.
"We understand, don't worry." Ifa said gently, looking at Boldure's devastated face.
With nothing more to add, the turned and left.
As they stepped outside, they activated their barrier and glanced at one another.
"Let's reports her deeds to Aliza." Grathe muttered. Ifa gave a quite, solemn nod.
"It seems...our pursuit for Chloe continues." He said. Then they waited for a carriage to arrive.
Meanwhile, in the inner district of Dorja.
"I smell monsters." The white haired girl said.
"Monster?" Kael asked, shocked.
Without warning, she dashed forward. Kael cursed and ran after her.
"The smell is close." The girl muttered.
"Pa...pa..papa.."
A voice, faint childlike, but distorted, called out.
Both of them froze.
The girl's eyes narrowed. "It's here."
Kael's heart pounded in his ears. He gripped his spear tightly, trying to steady the tremble in his hands.
He gagged, the bile rising in his throat.
He took a shaky step back, eyes widened with horror.
"Why...?" He whispered, tears spilling down his cheeks.
Lying before him was the body of a child. A gaping hole torn through the chest. Blood trailing from the mouth and eyes.
"Papa..."
The voice came again, soft and hunting.
Kael looked up quickly.
Perched above was a massive black bird, nearly fifty inches tall, its wings slowly spread, revealing a monstrous nine foot wingspan. Black feathers rained down like ash.
Then it dove.
Kael's vision blurred with rage.
Mana surged through his veins, coating his spear in a crackling blue glow.
With precise timings, he met the creature mid-air, twisting his body and driving the spear upward.
The point punched clean through the beast's chest, bursting out it's back in a spray of dark blood.
From the shadow another bird dove in, shreiking.
But before it could strike, the white-haired girl leapt through the air, moving faster than kael could blink.
She grabbed the bird by its throat mid-flight and with a sickening crunch, crushed it instantly.
Kael froze in shock.
She hadn't used a single drop of mana.
Just raw strength.
His eyes fell on the lifeless child, a sorrowful expression softening his face as he whispered a prayer.
Then his eyes dropped to lifeless create on the ground, still twitching.
"What kind of monster is this?" He whispered, staring at the grotesque features.
The girl knelt beside it, brushing her fingers through the fallen black feathers.
"Black feathers, mimicry. No doubt it's a Swarro." She muttered.
Her expression darkened as she stood. "Call the other guards. I smell more of them nearby."
Kael nodded and took off, sprinting to call for reinforcements.
He ran through the streets, heading straight for the Knight's Temple of the Holy Saints.
His heart thundered in his chest, not from exhibition, but from fear of what was comming.
He had to warn Aliza.
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Hydrgateia, Ifa and Grathe had began their three days return journey.