Fairhollow looked nothing like its name suggested.
It wasn't fair, nor hollow — more like loud, fragrant, and aggressively alive. Lanterns bobbed from ropes strung across the streets, the scent of roasted chestnuts and fried mushrooms wafted in the air, and laughter rolled out from taverns like thunder.
Bell grinned as he led his horse down the main road. "Still the same."
Seria wrinkled her nose as a juggler nearly ran into her with three flaming apples. "It's louder than I remember."
Cid, trailing behind with a meat skewer in each hand, nodded with approval. "This is paradise."
They found a room at a modest inn called The Two Coins, just outside the central square. After stabling the horses and tossing their packs onto soft beds, the trio stepped back into the night to explore.
Bell's eyes sparkled. "There's a tavern here with the best mint cider in the province."
"Is this the one with the goat or the minotaur?" Seria asked dryly.
"That was a one-time event," Bell protested.
Cid took a swig from someone else's mug as they passed. "You say that, but I feel like the livestock theme is recurring."
They ducked into a tavern called The Singing Lantern, where a bard was tuning a silver-stringed lyre on a small stage. The place was packed with travelers, mercenaries, and old farmers playing cards by candlelight.
The three claimed a table in the corner.
The bard began to play.
The song was soft, but carried across the room like wind in tall grass.
There once was a girl with fire in her veins,
Her name they erased, but the shadow remains,
The golden throne feared her heart full of flame,
Now serpents remember what kings tried to tame.
Seria stiffened.
Bell's smile faded slightly.
Cid blinked and looked up from his mug.
The bard said nothing more. He moved straight into a drinking tune, and the room erupted in cheers.
"Coincidence?" Bell muttered.
"No," Seria whispered. "That song isn't in any archives I know. That was about Evelyne."
Cid leaned back. "Maybe it's a local ghost story. Towns love their drama."
Bell frowned. "Or someone doesn't want her forgotten."
They didn't press the bard. He vanished from the stage shortly after, as if he'd never been there.
Later that night, Seria and Bell wandered the quieter side streets of Fairhollow, away from the lanterns and the laughter.
"She's following us," Seria said. "Her name. The ruins. The song. It's like Evelyne is a thread connecting all of it."
Bell stared ahead. "She's supposed to be a myth. A lesson, not a memory."
Seria stopped walking. "And yet... every time we get close to forgotten places, we find a mark. A trace. A hint."
Bell looked down at his gloved hands. "She feels familiar."
"Even though you don't know her?"
He nodded.
They stood in silence.
"Maybe she knew someone like you," Seria said softly.
He looked up, and for the briefest moment, their eyes met in stillness.
Then a bottle crashed in the distance and a drunk screamed about a stolen goat.
The moment passed.
"Let's go get Cid before he gets arrested," Bell said.
"Too late," Seria replied.
They found Cid exactly where they expected—lounging on a fountain with a stolen plate of dumplings, talking to a flower vendor about the political rights of cabbages.
"We're leaving in the morning," Bell said.
Cid bit into a dumpling. "Figures. Right when I find culture."
That night, the figure in shadow watched the Singing Lantern from a nearby rooftop.
The bard stepped out the back door, packing his lyre.
He didn't see the shadow that crossed behind him.
He didn't hear the whisper.
But he paused mid-step, eyes suddenly wide with something between awe and fear.
And then… he walked away without a word.
A pale serpent watched from beneath the rooftop eaves.
It blinked once.
And vanished.