My trip down Demon's Peak had been uneventful so far and I was rather thankful for that after the events of last night. In the peaceful quiet of the late afternoon, I was left to ruminate on what little memories I had regained and everything that had happened to me since I first woke up in that empty place.

I was going to research something before whatever happened to me. It stands to reason that whatever I had been doing most likely led me to my current situation, but I'm still missing too many pieces to put anything concrete together.

I idly kicked a large pebble over the edge of a nearby cliff.

And that... white void... just what was that place? Why did I wake up there instead of coming straight here? What was that sound I heard and what was chasing me?

I kicked another pebble over the edge.

And there's my Magic and the sword I woke up with...

I raised my hand and it glowed softly. The same glow enveloped the hilt of the sword on my back and it pulled itself out of the scabbard and floated in front of me. I grabbed it out of the air and examined it, turning it this way and that.

Apparently I could use Magic all along, so that's one question answered, but what about the sword? There was no indication of me having one in the memory, so... maybe I got it sometime later?

Another thought occurred to me as I continued to stare at the sword.

Could this be what I was researching before whatever incident happened? Is this why I'm stuck here?

I glared at the blade briefly, but then sighed and returned it to its sheath.

No point in getting upset about it. I'm only speculating after all.

I kicked a third pebble off the edge as I continued walking.

*thunk*

"Agh! By the Sun that smarts!"

I jumped a bit, caught off guard by the sudden voice.

"Hey! Who's throwing rocks up there?"

I tentatively peeked over the ledge and saw that there was another ledge below that I hadn't seen. Standing on that ledge below me, was a thin, wispy looking man. He was wearing what looked like some kind of dark blue uniform and had a large bag hanging from his shoulder. One hand held a hat and the other was tenderly rubbing his balding head as he looked up with an irate scowl.

Whoops.

I briefly looked back over to where I was walking and saw that the path actually turned sharply, heading downwards to where the man was currently standing.

How did I miss that?

I turned back to the man and waved with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that," I called out, "I didn't know there was another path down there."

"Well, maybe next time you should..." he faltered, his irritation being replaced with bemusement as he spotted me above, "wait, what business do you have up on Demon's Peak?" his eyes narrowed slightly, "I was told that no one trekked through this dangerous place."

I opened my mouth to answer and hesitated.

What do I tell him?

After a moment's thought, I decided to go with the truth—or some of it anyway.

"I'm... actually not quite sure how or why I came here," I replied, desperately trying to keep the pain out of my next words, "the hunter and his... granddaughter, that live up here found me badly injured and nursed me back to health. I can't really remember anything before that," I thought for a moment and added, "I only recovered just recently and now I'm headed into town to find some work."

The man looked at me for another minute. He opened his mouth to inquire further, but closed it again before shaking his head, "Agh, it doesn't matter. Slogging my way up this blasted mountain path has taken up enough of my time and patience," he looked back in my direction with a frown, "you said you were staying with the hunter that lives here?"

I nodded.

Lived here, anyway, I thought morosely. I don't really know why, but something was telling me I should keep the man in the dark about the situation at the cabin.

He nodded in return and reached into his bag. He searched through it for a bit before pulling out what seemed to be a letter. He addressed me once again as he looked the letter over.

"I came up here to deliver a letter to one 'Jacob L. Ripp'," he looked up at me with an inquisitive raise of his eyebrow, "I was told Mr. Ripp had secluded himself up here on Demon's Peak with his granddaughter?"

I furrowed my brow in confusion at his mention of the name.

Jacob Ripp? I though in bemusement, before my eyebrows raised in realization, that's right! He did mention that 'Jack' wasn't his real name!

I started walking my way down to the man, responding as I went.

"That's right," I replied, "he and his granddaughter were the ones who took me in when I was injured, like I said."

"Ah, that's perfect," he responded, walking forward to meet me halfway. As he got closer he stopped and gave me a strange look. I stopped as well, noticing his look and raising an eyebrow.

"Is... there something wrong?" I asked warily.

The man blinked and scowled at me, looking almost... affronted?

"What are you trying to pull with that hair, girl? And those eyes?" he asked in irritation, "is this some sort of joke?"

I backed up a step, taken off guard by his rather intense reaction to my appearance.

Jack had mentioned my hair and eyes weren't normal, but I didn't think they would be that much of a problem...

I decided I needed a cover story, and quickly.

"No, no I'm sorry," I said quickly, raising my hands defensively, "I didn't mean to... offend you. Like I said before, I can't remember anything before I woke up near the forest path," I lied, "but I think the strange color of my hair and eyes might be some sort of..." I struggled with an explanation for a moment, "...genetic mutation—m-most likely a birth defect of some sort."

Sweat began to bead on my forehead as I waited for the man's response. I tried to keep a stoic expression, inwardly pleading him to believe the blatant lie. After a few tense moments of awkward staring, the man grunted and his scowl softened a little.

"Ah, well I'm sorry to hear that, lady. Just be prepared to catch a lot of shit for that when you get into town. Folks here don't like it when things aren't... normal."

Don't I know it, I thought ruefully.

"I'll... keep that in mind," I stated.

He nodded in satisfaction, "As you should. Now then—" he held out the letter to me "—I know you said you were headed into town, but seeing as you aren't very far down the mountain, can you do me a favor and give this to Jacob back at wherever he lives?"

I took the letter, giving the mail carrier a confused frown.

"Why would you give this to me to deliver? Sorry if I'm being rude, but isn't this your job?"

The man shrugged, "I don't know exactly where this Jacob lives and you do. Besides, I got more mail to deliver and I'm way behind schedule as it is. This place ain't even part of my regular route, I only agreed to come up to this Goddesses forsaken mountain because I owed someone a favor."

At that, he turned on his heel and started walking back down the mountain path—completely ignoring the fact that I hadn't even given him an answer.

"Is it even legal for you to do this?" I called out, gesturing to the letter in my hand, "aren't there guidelines for this sort of thing?"

He just continued to walk away, waving a hand dismissively.

I watched incredulously as he moved further and further away.

Why would he just trust a random stranger he just met with someone's private information?

I finally shook my head and looked at the letter in my hand contemplatively. The opening of the envelope was covered by a dark blue wax seal depicting a tower shield with a stylized crescent moon design over two crossed swords. I briefly pondered the emblem, but I couldn't really glean any meaning out of it. Ultimately I just decided to set my thoughts on the seal aside for the time being.

Well, he's not really in a position to receive letters anymore, and I'm not about to travel back up the mountain right now.

I let out a melancholy sigh, broke the seal on the envelope, and pulled out the letter.

At the very least, I might be able to find out more about him.

Unfolding the letter, I began walking down the mountain path again, sticking close to the rock face so as not to fall off the edge of the path while I was reading.

Jack,

I know we haven't spoken in a while and I'm sorry for that. Sorry I wasn't there when you lost your son, but know that I'm grieving right along with you. The man was like a nephew to me for what it's worth. As terrible as the whole incident was though, that's not what this letter is about. I'm writing this as a warning. You've got trouble, Jack. Big trouble.

The kind of trouble that could cost you your head if you're not careful.

We've been searching every damn hidey-hole in this region for the past three years looking for any sign of that Goddesses forsaken Headhunter and we finally managed to track its general location. Jack, that thing is near Thatch somewhere, and based on what we already know, it's probably gonna try to hide out on Demon's Peak while it scopes out potential victims. I remembered you telling me you were gonna settle down up there just before you left, so I pulled some strings to get this out to you as fast I could. I only hope you got it in time. We may have been able to track it down, but we still don't know what it looks like, so watch your ass.

If you notice anything suspicious don't try to be a hero, Jack. Contact us and we'll be there in a heartbeat. I know you haven't forgotten the sign, even after all these years. This is our chance to finally put this son of a bitch down once and for all, let's not waste it.

Oh, and tell little Jessie I said hi, will you?

~ Bannon

I read and re-read the letter a few more times, trying to memorize its contents. Satisfied, I replaced the letter in the envelope and tucked it into my bag.

I had several questions running through my mind at once and no way to answer any of them. Apparently, there was more to Jack than I realized. Much more. As I thought about what I read, I couldn't help but feel some resentment towards the mail carrier and a mix of confusion and growing anger about the timing of the letter.

When was the letter written? When was it sent originally? Why was it only arriving just now?

I grit my teeth, unconsciously clenching my hands into fists as I blinked back unshed tears.

If that mailman had gotten there just a day earlier, Jack might've... he could've... done... something! I thought bitterly, he might've lived... and I wouldn't be alone again. I wouldn't have had to face that thing on my own. I wouldn't be going into town looking for a damn grave marker!

I punctuated the last thought with a punch to the rock wall beside me, leaving a noticeable indentation in the stone. The slight pain in my hand from the blow cleared my head enough for me to realize there was only a slight pain; far too little for the damage I did to the wall. I slowly brought my fist back, staring at it numbly as a realization hit me.

No, I thought with growing dismay, Jessie was never a suspect. I was the one who showed up out of nowhere. I'm the one with strange hair and eyes, weird regeneration, mysterious Magic and above-average strength as I've just found out. Between Jessie and me, I was the most suspicious out of the two of us by far. Realistically, if that letter had arrived while I was still there and Jack was still alive...

"He probably would've tried to kill me..." I finished aloud in a quiet, horrified voice.

And even if he did, the actual Headhunter would've eventually killed him anyway.

With that sobering thought in mind, I readjusted my bag and continued down the mountain path in sullen silence.

The sun was beginning to set as I neared the edge of town. I decided to take a quick break, resting at the base of a tree on a plateau overlooking Thatch. I sighed and began to work out a plan of action on how to approach the townspeople. Pulling one of the canteens from my belt, I took a swig of water while I stared at the town in thought.

Okay, I thought, floating a piece of paper and a fountain pen from out of my bag, what do I know about the people of Thatch?

As I pondered, I began to write bullet points—my pen encased In a magenta aura as it whizzed across the paper floating in the same glow.

From what I can see from my vantage point, and from what I've read, Thatch is a small farming community with a population of approximately twelve hundred people. The majority of the buildings seem to be made primarily of various types of wood with some brick and mortar housing here and there—ironically, none of the building's roofs are built with the town's namesake.

I hummed in thought as I continued to observe the small town.

Based on what I've heard from Jack and what the mailman flat out told me, the people here are wary of anything out of the norm. Unfortunately, I can't do anything about the way I look so I'll just have to hope they won't do anything... drastic. Magic is also out of the question.

At that thought, I cast an intrigued glance at the pen and paper floating in the air next to me. It feels so natural to write like this, I thought.

It was true. I had gotten used to using my telekinesis very quickly and it soon felt like I had been using it all my life... which I guess had actually been the case given who and what I was back then.

I looked down at my glowing hands, I didn't even think about using my hands to write. Can I even write with my hands?

I released the telekinetic hold on the pen and paper, and—setting the paper against my bag—tried to write using my right hand, then the left. As I expected, my writing was horrible with both hands, though my left-handed writing was a bit more legible. Rather than waste more paper, I made a mental note to practice handwriting in the near future.

Putting the fountain pen and list back in my bag, I got up and looked towards the rapidly setting sun.

First order of business should be to find somewhere to stay for the night — possibly an inn if they have one, I pulled the out the bits I had collected from Jack's cabin, let's see... five silver, a gold, aaaaand... thirty copper. I'm not exactly sure what the going rate is for an inn, but this should be enough for at least a night. I just hope I have enough left over for Jack's grave marker...

I put the bits back in the pouch on my belt, hooked my bag back over my shoulder and set off for the town.

Night had fully fallen by the time I made it into Thatch. While not as cold as the night before, this evening was still a bit chilly. I had pulled my hood up to cover the majority of my hair as I figured it would be best to err on the side of caution and minimize any chance of being ousted as a freak. Of course, it wouldn't help when it came time to interact with the townsfolk, but every little bit counts.

I walked through the town, taking it in as subtly as I could so as not draw too much attention to myself. I could see that the majority of people in town were settling in for the night, taking down stalls and closing up shop. I spotted mothers quickly ushering children inside homes and doors and windows being shut and presumably locked.

The sun just set only about an hour ago and everyone is already calling it a night, I thought with growing unease, they're probably afraid of the Headhunter...

I could understand their fear — I was almost killed by the abomination after all — but this posed a problem for me. The more the streets emptied, the more I stood out.

I need to find an inn fast, I thought, looking around almost frantically.

Even with the multiple street lamps lighting the way, it was still getting harder to make out many of the buildings in the area. On top of that, I didn't know my way around town. I was beginning to hyperventilate as my anxiety grew and I had to stop and catch my breath.

Okay, calm down... deep breaths, Sparkle... deep... breaths, I placed a hand on my chest and moved it away as I inhaled and exhaled deeply. I repeated this action a few times and I felt my panic slowly ebb and — after a few moments — disappear entirely.

Nothing is going to be accomplished if you start freaking out now.

With a nod of satisfaction, I once again swept my gaze over the mostly empty streets. With a start, I realized some of the people remaining on the streets had seen my little panic attack and were eyeing me warily. I waved at them wearing an awkward smile, and the majority of them went back to whatever they were doing.

I noticed an elderly woman wrapped up in a dark blue cloak. She was hobbling along across the street, tapping a walking cane along the ground in front of her at regular intervals. It took me a minute to figure out why she had caught my attention until I realized she was the only one who hadn't given me any odd looks. She seemed to be content to keep to her own business.

Maybe I can ask her for directions, I thought, already beginning to walk over to where she was.

"Excuse me, ma'am," I called out politely, "do you have a minute? I need some help."

The woman stopped and turned towards the direction of my voice. I stifled a gasp of surprise as I saw her face. As it turned out, the old woman was completely blind in both eyes.

I guess that would explain why she wasn't giving me weird looks... as well as the cane.

Though she was obviously visually impaired, her glossy, milky white eyes seem to bore into mine and I had to suppress a shudder as I remembered the fake Jessie's lifeless gray eyes. After a moment, a gentle smile spread across her wizened face.

"What a lovely voice you have," she croaked out in a raspy, time-worn voice, "tell me, young one, what could an old bat like me possibly help you with?"

I was a little taken aback by the sincerity in her voice. Honestly, I had expected a little more hostility given my appearance, but then again, the woman was blind.

"Um, yes well," I started, trying to collect my bearings, "I was just wondering if you knew of a place I could stay for the evening." I looked around and saw that the streets were completely barren save for the woman and myself, "apparently it's not a good idea to be out so late at night," I finished with a hint of nervousness.

The lady chuckled lightly and started walking in the same direction she been before I stopped her. Confused, I opened my mouth to say something when she looked over her shoulder with that same gentle smile and spoke.

"Well come on now, young one," she said amiably, "it's awful dangerous to be roaming around here at night, and I'm sure my son has already worried himself sick about me."

My eyes widened when I realized what she was implying and I quickly tried to wave her suggestion away, forgetting her blindness for a moment.

"Oh, no," I stuttered, "I-I couldn't — I mean y-you don't need to—"

"It's fine, dearie," she replied, cutting me off, "I don't need my eyes to tell me that you're not from around here, and you seem like a nice young lady — if a bit weirder than most," she added, her gentle smile switching to a knowing smirk.

I gaped at her retreating form for a good few seconds before reluctantly following behind.

What did she mean by that? I thought in bewilderment, with her vision the way it is, she couldn't possibly know just how weird I really am... can she?

I tried to look past the flippant comment, but I found I couldn't. What was worse was that, rather than feeling relieved at having found shelter for the night, I just felt uneasy. This situation I found myself in felt a little too similar to when Jack and Jessie — the fake Jessie — took me in. I tried once more to get out of my current predicament.

"Um... excuse me, Miss..."

"Rosalyn, dear. Rosalyn Withers," she clarified.

"Miss Withers... you really don't have to do this on my account," I pleaded, "I have some money, if you can just point me in the direction of—"

"All the inns in town are already closed for the night, young lady," she replied, cutting me off with a stern and somewhat annoyed look over her shoulder, "you're just going to have to accept my hospitality. I expect you'll find that in short supply, what with the townsfolk being so wary of strangers. Trust me, dearie, you're better off taking goodwill where you can get it."

"But..." I struggled for an argument, "but why? Why would you just take me in like this? Not even knowing who I am — or even what I look like?"

She did make some very good points, but the lingering foreboding I felt pushed me to argue the matter further.

She stopped and let out a long, exasperated sigh that came out sounding more like a wheeze. For a heartbeat or two, she didn't say anything and just stood there with her back turned to me. Then she spoke, her tone worn and weary.

"I'm old, dearie. I got no family left, save for my son, and most of the folk around here don't really come to visit me anymore. You seem like a nice young lady and... well..." her milky eyes left me and stared up at a night sky she couldn't see, "I guess I'd just like someone new to... sit down and have a nice conversation with," she looked back at me with a gentle and inviting smile, "maybe over some tea and crumb cake?"

Crumb cake does sound good... but still...

"What about your son?" I pressed, "you said he was still around."

Rosalyn snorted and looked away, "That ingrate couldn't hold a proper conversation on threat of death."

My eyebrows raised at the sudden venom in the old woman's voice.

"He can't really be that bad, can he?" I asked with a small frown.

She shook her head.

"It wouldn't be that bad normally, no," she responded, "but lately he's grown old and bitter — not nearly as old as me, mind, but he's also getting up there in years and ain't no more pleasant a person for it."

"Then that's all the more reason why I shouldn't—"

"Don't worry about it, girl," Rosalyn interjected, "he won't say nothing while I'm around. Besides, he spends more time out and about nowadays than he does at home with his poor old mother."

"Oh," I said uncomfortably, "I'm... sorry to hear that."

"Ah, don't be," she said waving a bony hand dismissively, "now come on, then. The hour grows later and the air that much colder."

With that, she hobbled along further down the street, cane tapping away in front of her.

I still wanted to argue further with the kindly old woman, but I found myself out of arguments for the moment.

And it is getting colder out...

With a sigh of resignation, I hurried after Rosalyn before I completely lost sight of her in the gloom of the night.

I really hope I don't end up regretting this.

I couldn't tell exactly how much time had passed, but I could see the waxing crescent moon hanging high in the sky by the time we reached what I assumed was Rosalyn's abode. It turned out to be a humble little cottage near the farmlands on the northern edge of town — not that I could tell any of this by sight.

The street lamps had thinned out quite a bit as we got further away from the heart of the village and I was hard-pressed to see anything out here in this darkness. Oddly enough, Rosalyn didn't seem to have the same problems I was having. She was able to find her way with little trouble and had even told me what section of the town we were in.

I thought the whole thing was strange until something dawned on me.

"Rosalyn," I asked with a thoughtful frown.

"Hmm?"

"I'm not trying to be rude or anything, but... were you... born blind?"

Rosalyn chuckled good-naturedly.

"Wondering how I know where everything is when my eyes don't work, are you?"

"W-well, I'd be lying if I said wasn't a little curious..." I mumbled, looking away awkwardly.

"Oh, it's quite alright, dear," she responded walking up the steps of the house, "to answer your question... no. I could see just as good as anyone else up until about... oh..." she 'hummed' in thought as she opened the front door and stepped inside, "I'd say it was about twenty or so years ago."

I stepped into the house behind Rosalyn, closing the door behind me as I entered. Turning around, I took in the scenery before me. Rosalyn's house seemed to be a lot more humble than Jack's rather luxurious cabin. From what I could see, the cottage consisted of a large living space with an armchair and a large couch, a small kitchen area in the back, one door to the left and another to the right — presumably the bedroom and bathroom.

"But come now, dearie," Rosalyn continued, walking into the kitchen, "I'm sure you don't want to hear me prattle on about my infirmities. Just go have a seat anywhere you like and I'll fix us up some of those crumb cakes I mentioned earlier."

Rather than do as she asked, I followed her into the little kitchen with a worried expression.

She stopped and cocked her head to one side before letting out a tired sigh — much to my confusion.

"Looks like my boy is out late again..." she muttered.

I wanted to ask how she knew, but the fact that she was about to start baking without her sight worried me a lot more at the moment.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" I asked hesitantly, "I mean, I don't know how to bake, but if you can walk me through the steps..."

I stopped and slapped a hand to my face.

What am I saying? She's blind — she should be anywhere near an oven!

"Oh stop that," she chided, glaring in my general direction, "I know what you're thinking, missy, and I don't appreciate it. I may be blind, but I'm far from helpless."

As if to demonstrate her point, she flipped open one of the cabinets and proceeded to pull out several things, including brown sugar, flour, cinnamon and a few other ingredients I didn't recognize. She walked over to the icebox and pulled out some eggs and butter. All of this was done swiftly and without incident despite her lack of vision.

I gave an impressed raise of my eyebrows, I was still a bit leery of how well she could function without sight, but I honestly didn't know enough about how being blind worked to be any kind of judge, so I let it go at that.

"Why don't you go have a seat in the living room while I get started in here?" Rosalyn suggested as she heated the oven.

Well... she seems to know what she's doing at any rate...

I decided to take her advice and reluctantly stepped out of the kitchen. As I walked back into the main room, I took another glance around. I spotted two wooden chairs surrounding a small table near one corner of the room next to an antique dresser.

"Where should I put my things?" I asked as I made my way to one of the chairs.

"Anywhere you like, dear," Rosalyn called back from in the kitchen, "just make yourself at home."

I unstrapped my bag, my sword, and the rifle and set them next to the chair as I sat down. My previous experience had made me wary so I chose to keep my things close, just in case.

"What kind of tea do you drink, Miss..." Rosalyn paused, "actually, I don't think I caught your name, dear."

"Oh, right sorry," I called out. I was about to tell her what I remembered of my name when I had a sudden thought.

You know what? It might be better if I came up with an alias. It would probably help in the future, especially if I plan to get a job here in town.

I thought for a minute before answering.

"My name is... Stella. Stella Sparkle."

"Oh, what a lovely name," the old woman said with a small chuckle, "well, Miss Sparkle, what kind of tea do you drink?"

"Well, I'm partial to cinnamon and chai myself..." I answered, "but I recently got to try firemint for the first time and I thought it was pretty good."

"Interesting," Rosalyn responded thoughtfully, "I've never heard of chai tea and I don't have any firemint at the moment, but I'd be happy to brew you up some cinnamon tea if you'd like?"

"That sounds perfect," I said with a smile.

I sat there in a relatively comfortable silence while Rosalyn prepared the tea — the pleasant smell of cinnamon already making it's way to my nostrils. I took the time to collect my thoughts and make a few plans for tomorrow.

First I want to get an idea of how the townspeople will react to me...

I winced as I remembered my freakout back in town earlier.

That... probably didn't help.

I sighed.

"Hey, um... Rosalyn?" I asked tentatively, "can I ask you a... weird question?"

"Oh, go right ahead, dear," she replied with a chuckle, "you'll get no judgments from me."

I raised an eyebrow at the last statement.

What exactly does she think I'm going to ask her?

Shaking my head, I focused back on my actual question.

"How would I go about... fitting in with the townspeople here?" I asked, then clarified, "I know you can't see it, but I've been told more than once that I don't exactly look... normal."

"What do you mean, dear?" Rosalyn asked.

"Well, apparently my eye and hair color aren't common around here and I'm afraid that'll make it difficult to find some work, which is what I was planning to do here in Thatch."

"Strapped for cash, are you?" the old woman responded with a chuckle. I laughed along out of embarrassment more than anything.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that..."

I jumped a bit as a sudden high pitched whistle filled the air, and looked towards the kitchen in confusion.

"Still need some time for the cakes, but the tea will be out in just a moment, dearie," Rosalyn said from the kitchen. It took me a minute, but I realized the noise I hear must've been a tea kettle and I relaxed.

"Alright, thank you, Rosalyn," I said gratefully.

Maybe the tea will help with my nerves.

I was honestly surprised at how jumpy I had become. I was fine going down the mountain, but I had been on edge ever since I got into town. I had also noticed that my anxiety had been getting worse as the night wore on.

Was it the town itself that made me nervous?

Was it Rosalyn?

Was it how this small, homey cottage reminded me of Jack's cabin?

...Or was it the darkness of the night?

I started to think it might've been all of the above, but whatever it was, the fact remained that I just couldn't get comfortable. I wasn't exactly jumping at shadows yet, but I was close.

Just remember... deep breaths.

Be calm.

The Headhunter is dead, nothing is out to get you anymore.

I once again placed a hand to my chest, extending it as I slowly took in and let out lungfuls of air. After a minute of this, I gradually began to relax, letting my hand rest on the table.

"Are you alright, dear?"

I jumped in surprise at the sound of Rosalyn's voice. I looked over to see her standing in the entrance to the kitchen looking in my general direction with a small plate holding a steaming cup of tea. I could see a small frown of worry on her heavily wrinkled face.

So much for the breathing exercise...

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," I lied, "just a little anxious about meeting the townsfolk is all."

"Well I can understand that," she said slowly making her way over to the table where I was sitting, "most folk here like things nice and simple," she set the plate down in front of me and the scent of cinnamon was practically overpowering as I breathed it in, "they don't take too well to strangers."

"Great," I muttered, picking up the cup. I gave Rosalyn a quick 'thank you', blew the steam from my cup and took a sip of tea. It was as delicious as I expected it to be, but to my surprise, I found myself preferring the firemint.

"It's good," I said with a small nod of approval, "very good," I turned to the woman with a grateful smile, "thank you, Rosalyn."

"Not a problem, Miss Sparkle," she replied returning the smile, "if you're still thirsty, there's some more tea in the kettle."

"Thanks again," I responded. She nodded and hobbled back into the kitchen, presumably to check on the crumb cake.

"Well, even if your hair and eyes are a bit strange," she continued from the kitchen, "you shouldn't have too much trouble finding some work — if you're willing to show that you can earn your pay."

She was quiet for a moment and I could hear the sound of dishware being moved around and what sounded like the oven being opened.

"The people of Thatch are hard workers, she said after a moment, "they appreciate a guy or gal who can put in a hard days work with no complaints — well most of them do anyway," she muttered, "but I reckon every town has their layabouts."

I gave a small, indulgent laugh and took another sip of my cinnamon tea.

"So tell me, dearie," Rosalyn asked curiously, "just where did you come from anyway?"

I almost choked on my tea at the question.

"By the sound of your voice, I can tell you're a learned type. Good manners, cultured — not like the gits we have around here."

I tapped the side of my cup with a finger as I frantically tried to come up with an explanation. As I sat thinking, Rosalyn continued.

"I reckon you must've traveled out this way from Ruvenbor, seeing as that's the closest town for miles — not counting the roadside inns and taverns along the way."

"Ruvenbor?" I couldn't help but ask.

Rosalyn was quiet for a second before answering.

"Huh, guess that answers that question then," she muttered, then spoke louder, "you must've seen that massive castle out in the distance while you were traveling, right?"

I nodded before remembering she couldn't see me.

"Yeah, I did," I answered, "just how big is that castle anyway?"

"Well," Rosalyn replied, "I don't know the exact size, dear, but I do know that you can see it almost anywhere in Vale if you've got a pair of binoculars handy."

"Wow..." I whispered in awe.

"Yes it's pretty ridiculous alright," Rosalyn said with a chuckle, "biggest castle on Hestenia in one of the biggest cities on Hestenia."

I mentally ran through what I knew about large towns and immediately came to an exciting conclusion.

"I don't suppose a large city like Ruvenbor has a large public library to go with it, does it?"

"I don't know about a public library," Rosalyn answered, "the closest thing I can think of is the Ruvenbor Public Archives building in the city square."

That's even better than I was hoping for!

"Though it's not open to the public most of the time..."

My smile dropped slightly.

"...and when it is, many of the sections are heavily restricted."

My smile fell completely and was replaced with a pout.

"Why all the heavy restrictions?" I asked, slightly miffed, "they aren't really public archives if the public can't use them."

"Oh, the archives weren't always restricted like they are nowadays," she answered casually, "you see, Vale has become an extremely militant nation in recent years by order of King Revnun."

"Actually," I replied with a thoughtful frown, "I think I did read something about a war going on between Vale and... what was it called? Gran... Grin—"

"The country you're looking for is Grynda, dearie," Rosalyn corrected, "and yes, we've been at war with them for the past three years or so," she stepped outside of the kitchen and leaned against a nearby wall as she spoke, "anyway, "the king's a bit paranoid of spies right now, so he's put somewhat of a lockdown on the information held within the archives."

She gave a wry chuckle.

"It would be more appropriate to call the place the Ruvenbor Military Archives now. The only ones with any free access to the archives anymore are the Royal Army."

"Oh..." I gave a melancholy sigh, "well, I guess there's nothing I can do about it..." I looked back to the old woman with an inquisitive raise of my brow, "for a blind woman living so far out of the way, you seem to know a lot about what's going on in Ruvenbor."

"Well I should think so," she answered with a laugh, "I was part of the king's army once upon a time."

That caused both my eyebrows to raise in surprise. She must've predicted my shock because she laughed again.

"Hard to believe looking at me now, isn't it?" she said, still chuckling, "but rest assured, Miss Sparkle, I was full of fire back in the day."

I thought for a minute before realizing something.

"And how long ago did you move here?" I asked, slightly suspicious.

"Oh, it was years ago," she responded easily, "about forty-five years to be exact. Suffered a crippling injury in the line of duty and had to retire, so I chose to move out into the country," she slowly made her way back into the kitchen as she spoke, "back hasn't been the same since..." she muttered more to herself.

"So if you moved here so long ago, how do you know about what's been going on in recent years?" I asked, "have you been back to the city since then?"

"Oh no, dear," Rosalyn called out, "I haven't been back there in a dog's age," she was silent for a moment, and I heard the clattering of dishware before she continued a moment later, "I've got some old friends that come to visit from the city from time to time — keeps me updated on what goes on."

And there it is.

"But didn't you tell me that you never got visitors anymore?"

"I said most folks around here don't visit anymore," she replied readily, "you've got to pay more attention, Miss Sparkle."

"Oh, sorry," I said, my cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment, "I guess you're right."

I need to quit being so paranoid, I thought with a frown, Rosalyn isn't out to get me, she just wants someone to talk to.

"While I'm happy to give my own life story, I believe we got off-topic, Miss Sparkle," the old woman said with a chuckle, "if I remember correctly, you were telling me about where you came from?"

I cursed inwardly and decided to give her the same partial truth I gave the mail carrier back on the mountain.

"I'm not sure, to be honest," I answered truthfully, "I woke up badly injured on Demon's Peak and a hunter and his daughter took me in and nursed me back to health. I actually came down to the village from there."

My eyes widened as I realized my mistake too late.

"Ah, so Jacob took you in!" Rosalyn exclaimed, "good man, that Jacob. Haven't seen him in quite some time, but I had heard his granddaughter had moved in after what happened to her parents, the poor dear."

Please don't ask! Please don't—

"How is that old hunter, anyway?"

Dammit!

"Oh, well he's..." I faltered as I tried to come up with something to say. Suddenly I realized how stupid my plan was.

I can't tell anyone he died, I thought with rising panic, I already look suspicious and if I try to tell them he was killed by the Headhunter, they'll wonder how I escaped.

"He's..."

The townspeople are probably more likely to believe I'm the Headhunter than that I'm the one that killed it.

My eyes slowly widened and I started to hyperventilate once again.

"Miss Sparkle?" Rosalyn called out worriedly, "are you okay, dear?"

If they suspect me of being the Headhunter, who knows what they'll do to me!

"Stella, dear?" Rosalyn asked, poking her head out of the kitchen with a frown of concern, "is something wro—"

"Can I... use... your bathroom?" I gasped out, "I don't... feel so good..."

"Of, course, dearie," Rosalyn replied pointing to the rightmost door, "bathroom's just that way."

I gave a distracted nod of thanks and quickly made my way to the bathroom door, pulling it open and shutting it behind me.

I rested my back against the door, closed my eyes, and tried to take deep breaths.

What is wrong with me? I thought as I continued to calm myself down, I wasn't like this at Jack's cabin — not even when I faced the Headhunter!

It took far longer than before, but my heartbeat gradually began to slow to normal levels. I took one last deep breath before opening my eyes and staring into the mirror.

I was a mess.

My body was shaking, my hair was frayed and my face was covered by a light sheen of sweat. Stepping up to the sink, I turned the handle and placed my hands under the faucet, waiting for the water to heat up. Once it was warm enough, I lowered my head and splashed some water on my face a few times.

That done, I wiped my face with a nearby hand towel and looked back to the mirror. To my relief, my face looked a lot better, and to my confusion, my hair once again looked as though I had spent a good half hour combing it.

"Are you feeling any better, dear?" Rosalyn called from outside the door.

I shook my head.

"I'm fine now, Miss Withers," I called back, "thank you f..."

I trailed off and furrowed my brow in confusion.

Wait...

"It's not a problem, Miss Sparkle," Rosalyn replied with a chuckle, "and please, call me Rose — or Rosie, either one will do."

"Alright, thank you," I answered distractedly as I came to an odd realization.

I was going to thank her for letting me use the bathroom, but how did she know right where it was? I flicked my gaze the reflection of the bathroom door in the mirror, the amount of things she can still do while blind is getting ridiculous. Is she that attuned to her surroundings, or...

I sighed, straightened up, and turned to leave the bathroom.

There's something weird about Rosalyn, but I don't feel like it's the same thing as with the Headhunter.

No...

There's something else that I can't put my finger on.

I opened the door and stepped outside.

For now I guess I'll just have to keep an eye out for anything suspicious.

I was broken out of my thoughts by the sweet aroma of blueberries wafting from the kitchen and I suddenly realized just how hungry I had become.

The smell also seemed to be pushing away my nervousness — something I was grateful for. As I made my way back to my seat Rosalyn spoke up.

"You don't mind blueberries do you, dearie?" she asked.

"Not at all," I replied as I sat back down, "they smell amazing."

"I'm glad to hear it, Miss Sparkle," she said with a bit of relief, "frankly, I forgot to ask what you would've preferred beforehand."

"It's fine," I said waving away her concerns, "I don't get many opportunities to enjoy baked goods like this."

I frowned.

At least, I don't think I do...

"Well if that's the case, you're in for a treat," she said as she stepped back out of the kitchen holding two plates. I couldn't help but lean forward in my seat to get a better look.

Sure enough, on each plate was a fork and a large slice of crispy, light brown crumb cake with a creamy white filling dotted with the dark blue of the berries baked within.

Now I couldn't wait.

She slowly made her way to the table set the plates down, after which, she took a seat herself in the chair opposite mine.

"Go on, dear," she gestured to the plate in front of me, "dig in, you look like you haven't eaten in ages."

I didn't think I looked that hungry, but regardless, I took up the fork and used the side to cut off a small piece. Jabbing it with my fork, I brought it up to my mouth and—

"ROSIE, YOU IN THERE?"

I cried out in surprise and dropped my fork at the sudden banging coming from the front door. The silverware hit the edge of the table, bounced off, and fell to the floor. I frowned in disappointment and gave the door an irritated look as the banging continued.

"Is that Frank?" Rosalyn muttered as she slowly rose from her chair, "what business does he have this late at night?"

I watched with a nervous frown as she made her way to the door.

"COME ON, ROSE! TALK TO ME!"

"I'm coming you old fool! Just give me a minute!" Rosalyn yelled back. She pulled open the door to reveal an old and rather thick-bodied man with gray hair, a gray beard, and a crazed look on his wrinkled face. His look changed to one of relief as Rosalyn opened the door.

"Oh thank the Goddesses you're okay, Rosie," he said, grabbing ahold of Rosalyn's hand, "was afraid you'd gotten mixed up with some bad company."

"What in Tartarus are you on about, Frank?" Rosalyn snapped, yanking her hand out of the old man's grip, "I'm just fine!"

"Well now, I just wanted to make sure, Rosie," the man replied, raising his hands defensively, "some of the folk back in town mentioned they saw you walking home with a suspicious-looking sort — some kind of odd-looking woman."

I had cleaned off my fork and was digging into my cake when the man's words stopped me short.

Oh, this isn't good.

"It just so happens that I did, Frank," Rosalyn replied with a scowl, "invited the dear in for some tea and crumb cake."

"She's in your house?!" Frank cried, reeling back in shock, "Rosie you know why we don't just invite random strangers in — especially around nightfall!"

He peered Rosalyn's shoulder and into the house, spotting me sitting at the table. I waved and gave the man a nervous smile.

He glared at me in response.

"I don't like it, Rose," he muttered suspiciously, still looking in my direction, "I don't like it one bit. She's definitely not from around here, and she don't look like anyone who'd have any business in this town anyway."

Maybe I should just go... I thought with a sigh, if everyone around here is like him, then I don't think I'll be able to do what I came here for after all.

"Now, just you hold on a minute, Frank," Rosalyn responded, pushing the man away from the door, "this poor dear came to me looking for an inn to stay, but they all close so unreasonably early," she shook her head, "where else was she going to stay? Who else was gonna bother to take her in for the night, huh? You?"

"Well, I—"

"And besides," she continued, "the girl came into town to look for a job. She just wants to earn some pay for a hard day's work, is that so much to ask?"

"W-Well, no," Frank replied with an unsure frown, "but still, Rose—"

"Still nothing," Rosalyn growled, "there ain't nothing wrong with Miss Sparkle and you'd best tell the others the same!"

"Alright, alright, Rose," Frank said backing up from the door, "but just tell me this..."

He looked past Rosalyn and back to me with a wary scowl.

"Where did she come from?"

My heart skipped a beat.

I didn't like the way he had asked that, and I didn't think he was going to like the answer Rosalyn gave him either.

Rose turned back in my direction with a look of pity before returning her gaze to Frank.

"Miss Sparkle was telling me how she had gotten hurt up on Demon's Peak," she replied, "old Jacob and his granddaughter helped the poor dear out and now here she is."

The man's eyes widened briefly before he narrowed them warily.

"I don't like it, Rose," he repeated, before turning to me, "what were you doing up in the mountains, girl? No one goes up there except for Jack and Jessie."

"I... don't remember," I replied lamely, "I don't remember what happened to me before I woke up there."

He's never going to buy that.

Sure enough, Frank's suspicious frown didn't change in the slightest — if anything, it deepened.

The man growled deep in his throat and turned back to Rose.

"I'll leave it be, for now, Rose," he said with a grimace, "but if you lose your head tonight, I'm telling the rest of the town exactly who — or what — it was that did it."

"I can take care of myself, Frank," Rosalyn replied with a scoff, "don't you worry about me — or the girl for that matter."

He shook his head before suddenly speaking up once again.

"Oh, before I forget," he said, "that worthless son of yours passed out drunk at the tavern again. He's probably going to be staying there for the night."

"Of course he is," Rose muttered, "the lout..."

"Well I've said my piece, Rose," Frank said with a small nod, "so I'll be off," he turned and glowered at me one last time, "good luck finding any workaround here... girl."

He spat to the side and walked back out into the night.

Rosalyn sighed and shook her head before shutting the door.

"Sorry you had to see that, Miss Sparkle," she said as she made her way back to the table, "everyone in this town is so paranoid they've forgotten what hospitality is."

"It's... it's alright, Rose," I said with a nervous chuckle, "I should've realized this might've happened."

Rosalyn turned to face me as she sat down.

I couldn't quite place the look she gave me, but it sent a slight chill down my spine for some reason. The moment passed and she picked up her own fork as she spoke again.

"That old badger's most likely going to tell as much of the town as he can about you," she said, taking a bite out of her crumb cake, "knowing Frank, he'll probably cast you as some kind of demon out of Tartarus."

"Oh," I frowned and lowered my fork, "that's... not good."

Rose nodded with a sad, understanding smile, "It'll make getting a job a bit more difficult for you for sure, dearie."

"Is there anything I can do?" I asked hopefully, "some way I can convince the townsfolk that I'm honestly just... trying to..."

"...Trying to what, Miss Sparkle?"

I didn't answer.

I couldn't answer.

I couldn't move.

My body had completely locked up and all I could do was sit there staring straight ahead.

"Miss Sparkle?" Rose asked with a frown, "are you alright, dear?"

What...

I'm not sure what look I had on my face, but I was rapidly beginning to lose the feeling in my limbs. Rosalyn stood up and I tried to follow her movements, but I could no longer even move my eyes.

What's going on?

I inwardly began to panic.

Why can't I move?

I felt like something was constricting my chest and it became harder to breathe.

I don't—

"Oh, dear," I heard Rosalyn mutter from somewhere below me, "oh dear, oh dear..."

I could vaguely hear the sound of various things being shuffled around and my already rapid heartbeat began to pick up its pace.

Is... Rosalyn going through my bag? What...

"Didn't I give this to Todd to deliver?" I heard Rosalyn say, "now why in the world would you have this, Miss Sparkle?"

My eyes would've widened if they could.

The letter! She sent that?

Then another thought came to me.

She can read it?

"Well..." Rosalyn said, walking back into view and seating herself back at the table, "now I'm glad I took precautions — though I was starting to wonder if they would work."

I said nothing.

I could feel something... odd happening within me, though I couldn't tell what. There was also another thing I couldn't help but take notice of...

Rosalyn's eyes were no longer a milky white, but a brilliant cerulean — sharp, intelligent and dangerous in spite of her advanced age.

She looked at me silently for a moment before chuckling.

"Looking back on it, I suppose I didn't need to play the role of a blind old woman," she mused as she idly twirled the letter about in her fingers, "I was never very good at acting, but at the very least I was able to get this far."

What is she talking about? I thought, my mind a whirlwind of panic and confusion, who is this woman?

"What is your name?"

"Sparkle. That's all I can remember of my name."

I didn't say that.

"I see..." Rosalyn muttered, staring at the table in thought, "so there's a bit of truth to your claims. Might as well get this question out of the way then," she turned back to me, "are you the Headhunter?"

"No."

I didn't say that! What's going on?!

Rosalyn nodded as though she was expecting the answer.

"I figured as much," she replied, "your appearance is far too conspicuous. Still..." she trailed off and eyed me with a contemplative frown.

"Where did you come from?"

"I... I-I..."

I felt myself wince.

A spike of pain shot through my head and I cried out involuntarily.

"I... I c-came to... gah!"

I clutched my head in agony.

What's happening to me? I thought through a haze of pain, it feels like someone's shoving a nail through my head! What did she do to me?!

"Stop," Rosalyn spoke calmly, "there is no need to answer."

Just like that, the pain vanished and I was once again staring straight ahead — hands rested on the table.

"That was rather strange," Rosalyn commented with a frown, "you've either got the will of a mountain or there's something else at work here."

She placed the letter on the table before speaking again.

"Where did you get this letter?"

"A mail carrier gave it to me as I was traveling down the mountain."

"Todd," she grumbled, "that lousy son of a..." she shook her head and continued her questioning.

"Where's Jacob Ripp?"

"I buried his body by the cliffside near his cabin."

The responded sent a pang of sadness through my heart, but at the same time ebbed away some of the panic clouding my mind. I took that moment to try and piece together what I could of my situation.

"Jacob's... dead?" Rosalyn muttered in shock.

"Yes," I replied monotonously.

"What about Jessie?" she asked as she stood up — her gaze intensifying, "what happened to her?"

"Jessie is dead."

"Did you do it?" she growled, giving me an icy glare, "do you kill them?"

"No."

Her eyes widened and after a moment she slumped back in her seat.

"You didn't kill them..." she murmured as she stared at the table in disbelief.

As she spoke, I began to regain feeling in my limbs once more — albeit very gradually. I didn't move for fear of Rosalyn finding out.

I don't know what she did, I thought, but whatever it was it seems to be controlling my movements and what I say — making me tell the truth against my will.

My heartbeat began to slow down as I analyzed the situation.

This is actually good.

From what I can feel, it looks like whatever she did is wearing off, but she'll be more inclined to believe me if she thinks I'm still under the effects of whatever this is.

I sat there calmly as Rose tried to process what she had heard. Eventually, she looked back to me and I could see unshed tears shining in her eyes. I felt a wave of guilt and pity suddenly wash over me as she spoke her next words in a wavering voice.

"Do you know who killed Jacob and Jessie?"

"Yes."

"Who was it?" she cried as she shot up from her chair, "was it the Headhunter?"

"Yes."

"GODDESSES DAMN IT ALL TO TARTARUS!" she cried, slamming a bony fist down on the table, "the bastards were too late!" she shook her head before eyeing the letter on the table with a glare.

She grabbed the letter and ripped it to pieces — tossing the scraps aside. She turned her glare on me and opened her mouth to speak before she paused and gave me an odd look.

Her eyes widened as though she had just realized something important.

"Wait..." she whispered in awe, "you... you've seen it, haven't you? The Headhunter?"

"Yes."

Time for me to clear my name.

She took a step back and stared at me.

She just silently stared at me for a good few minutes before finally speaking again in a quiet voice.

"How did you escape?"

"I didn't."

She blinked in confusion before furrowing her brows.

"What do you mean 'you didn't'?" she asked in an impatient tone, "what happened?"

"I killed the Headhunter."

"Horseshit!"

I didn't say anything.

Inwardly I was completely taken aback by the outburst — though I guess it made sense given my admittedly outrageous claim. She glared at me for another moment before planting her hands on the table and frowning at it contemplatively.

"There's no way..." she muttered more to herself, "centuries... for centuries that thing has eluded capture," she looked up from the table and stared at me — her glare cooling into a disbelieving frown, "and you expect me to believe some... fledgling whelp mysteriously arrives and does it in, just like that?"

"Yes."

The effects from whatever she had done hadn't quite worn off yet so I was inclined to answer her obviously rhetorical question.

She snorted and walked away from the table and out of my view. The paralysis had worn off enough that I could follow Rosalyn with my eyes, but not much else, and unfortunately she had still moved to where I couldn't see her.

I heard the woman sigh and walk back into view, though she wasn't looking at me. Her attention was focused on the ground at something I couldn't see in my state and her face was set in a bemused frown. She bent down and grunted with effort as she lifted my sword off the ground and set it on the table.

"Well damn me to Tartarus," Rosalyn muttered as she inspected the sword, "someone's certainly stronger than they look," after another moment of observation she looked at me with a skeptical smirk, "suppose this is how you did it?"

"No."

The smirk fell from her face and she frowned in irritation.

"No?"

"Yes."

"And this" — she pointed to the sword lying on the table — "was the only weapon you had?"

"Technically no," I droned against my will, "there were several rifles within the cabin for me to use."

"And you used those instead?"

"No."

She gaped at me in disbelief for a moment before pinching her nose with a sigh.

"Alright, little lady," she replied as she pulled up a chair and sat down at the table across from me, "this I have to hear," she steepled her spindly fingers on the table and eyed me intensely, "how did a whelp like you manage to kill a centuries-old monster without a weapon?"

"Magic."

The old woman's expression didn't change as she stared at me. She sat there silently for a good minute before finally responding in a slow, measured tone.

"You killed the Headhunter... with Magic?" she said quietly, "...Magic?"

"Yes."

She opened her mouth, closed it, and got up from the table before walking out of view once more.

"Magic she says." I heard her murmur from somewhere behind me, "the poor dear's mad. I added enough imperium root to keep her talking for days, so she really does think she killed the Headhunter with Magic."

Added enough... wait... I frowned before my eyes widened, did she drug me?!

It was only after this revelation that I realized I had full control over my body once more. Thinking quickly I schooled my features into an impassive mask before she walked back into my field of view before sitting back down.

"Well it seems this was a pointless endeavor after all," Rosalyn concluded with a heavy sigh, "you've clearly gone soft in the head, dear. Maybe a side effect I hadn't foreseen, but in any case, I can't trust a word you've said."

No! I need her to trust me!

I decided to throw all caution to the wind.

"I can show you if you'd like."

The woman's eyes widened and she reeled back in surprise. I couldn't help but smile a little in satisfaction.

"You... y-you've been..." she stammered before shooting up from her chair.

With a natural sort of grace I wouldn't have expected from a woman her age, she spun away from the table and leaped back to the far side of the room — landing in what I could only assume was some sort of battle stance.

My jaw dropped in amazement and it took me a second to realize she had pulled several daggers from... somewhere and was holding one outstretched in one hand and three more between each finger in the other.

"How long?" she growled, giving me an icy glare.

I continued to stare at the old woman in shock from my seat at the table.

"How long have you been able to move?" Rosalyn clarified.

"Uh..."

"ANSWER THE QUESTION, GIRL!"

"S-Since about a minute ago, I swear!" I cried as I raised my hands up defensively, "please just... hang on a minute! Hear me out!"

Rosalyn narrowed her eyes dangerously but didn't make any sudden movements otherwise. After a tense moment of silence, she finally spoke — maintaining her stance all the while.

"Prove it then."

"I... what?" I asked with a bemused and worried frown.

"You said you can show me this Magic," Rosalyn explained, "so let's see it — and I will kill you if I see you're actions as hostile in any way, understand, girl?"

I swallowed and nodded rapidly.

Looking around the room for something nonthreatening, my eyes fell on the unfinished crumb cake in front of me. I looked from it to Rosalyn who stared at me expectantly.

I looked back down at the crumb cake and, with a small sigh, I raised a hand.

Well, if that'll prove I'm telling the truth, I thought, Hopefully this won't come back to bite me...

My hand lit up with the tell-tale magenta glow of Magic and the cake lifted off the table in the same magenta glow — plate and all. I looked back to Rosalyn to see her staring at me in bewilderment.

No, wait...

I furrowed my brow.

She's not staring at me, she's looking at...

I followed the old woman's gaze to the table and the sword lying atop it. The rune that had been glowing before was doing so again.

Rosalyn turned from the softly pulsating rune on the sword to me with a dumbstruck expression. I could see some of the tension drain out of her rigid stance from her apparent shock.

"How could I have missed that?" she muttered, "with something like that, it's no wonder you were able to kill something as dangerous as the Headhunter..."

I frowned in confusion and was about to ask what she was talking about when she snapped her hard gaze back to me and spoke first.

"Where did you get that sword, girl?" she demanded.

I set the plate back down and glanced at the sword in question before answering with a shake of my head and a half nervous, half sheepish smile.

"I honestly don't know where it came from," I answered truthfully, "all I know is that I was holding onto it when I first woke up, and that I can feel some kind of weird... connection to it that I can't really explain," I gave the sheathed blade a contemplative frown, "I'm pretty sure there's a connection between it and my Magic, but I don't know exactly what it is for sure..."

Maybe it lets me use Magic? I thought as I continued to stare at the sword, but I already knew Magic before I even had it...

I, of course, didn't tell her that I had apparently been using Magic since back before I had the thing — that would've thrown what little credibility I had out the window, I'm sure.

"Goddesses above," she whispered in apparent awe, "you really don't know what you have, do you?"

I turned back to her with an inquisitive look.

"What do you mean?" I asked, "do you know something about the sword?"

"Oh, I know a couple of things about that type of sword, dearie," Rosalyn replied as she walked over to the table, "and believe you me, girl, that is no ordinary sword."

I wanted to ask where she had put the daggers she no longer had in her hands, but I decided to write it off as unimportant for now. She seemed to have calmed down somewhat and was willing to talk, and that was good enough.

"So, you've seen this... type of sword before?" I asked curiously.

"Not in person, no," the old woman replied with a small shake of her head, "I've only read a bit about them."

She reached the table and gave me an odd look before tapping the sheath of the sword with a bony finger.

"There are many names for what this is, Miss Sparkle," she explained, "Arcane Sword, Ferrum Magia, Plane-touched Steel," she slipped a hand beneath the sword near the top and raised it slightly, "but the most common name in use today would be Spellblade."

"Spellblade..." I murmured as I looked over the sword, "and there's more than this one..."

Rosalyn nodded and rested the sword back on the table.

"There are indeed more than the one you have here, girl," she explained, "and not all of them are swords specifically — though I believed there were only five of these weapons in existence."

She paused for a moment in thought before speaking again.

"Each of the other five Spellblades either are or were wielded by warriors of great renown," she continued, "all of them legends in their own right."

"Can they use Magic like I can?" I asked before I could stop myself, "I mean, the name 'Spellblade' clearly implies that the weapon is Magical in some way — at least I assume so," I then had another thought that I decided to voice, "and if these Spellblades are so distinctive, shouldn't you have recognize mine right away?"

"I did have my suspicions," Rosalyn admitted, "but at the same time I didn't want to assume anything," she shook her head, "there are swordsmiths who are known to make replicas and original designs based on Spellblades, and I as I said, there were only five known to even exist," she raised an eyebrow at me, "what are the odds that some whelp would just waltz into town carrying a legendary weapon like that?"

I didn't reply.

I guess she has a point...

She stared at me with a contemplative frown before glancing back at the sword.

"I don't know how you got your hands on one of these, girl," she said as she turned back to me with a slight smile, "but I'll believe your outrageous story... at least for the time being."

"You will?" I asked in surprise, "I mean, I'm grateful that you believe me, don't get me wrong, but what made you change your mind?"

"Well, first off, I hadn't quite made up my mind yet, dear," she replied with a smirk, "and second, there are many stories surrounding these Spellblades — one of them being that they were blessed creations made by the Goddesses of the Sun and Moon themselves and handed down to would-be heroes and heroines."

"Oh, wow... that's," I blinked and turned back to the sword with a look of bewilderment, "huh..."

"I personally don't believe a word of any of that," Rosalyn continued with a huff, "but just based on the design of the thing and what you just did with my plate, I don't really have a choice but to believe you — at least where the Headhunter is concerned."

"Well, er..." I tried to give her a grateful smile, but I was sure it just came out looking awkward instead, "thanks... I guess."

How am I any kind of heroine? I thought incredulously, I still don't understand anything about what's going on, and based on what little I do remember, I'm not even from this world.

And really, why did I already have the sword before I came here?

None of this makes any sense!

I was beginning to feel another panic attack coming on, so I quickly changed the subject.

"A-Anyway," I began, "is there anything else you can tell me about the sword? Like I said before, I woke up not knowing anything about who or where I was, and I still feel kind of lost right now."

"I'm afraid I don't know much more than that the blades grant their users powerful abilities, like your 'Magic'," Rosalyn replied as she took a seat at the table, "now sit, there are still some other things for us to discuss at the moment."

She motioned for me to sit down and I took the same seat as before. Once I was settled, she folded her hands across the table and looked at me with something approaching an apologetic frown.

"First off, I'd like to apologize about all that nasty business earlier, what with me controlling you and all," she shook head and gave a small smile, "you really are a sweet girl, but you're also an unknown — and frankly suspicious — element," she chuckled wryly, "you certainly didn't do yourself any favors by walking through town carrying Jacob's bag and rifle."

I blinked and glanced at the open bag on the floor before looking back to Rosalyn as I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly.

"Right," I replied awkwardly, "I... guess I didn't think about that..."

That was an incredibly stupid thing for me to overlook thinking back on it...

"No, you didn't," Rosalyn agreed with a nod, "anyone who knew Jacob personally knows you'd have to kill the man before he'd let you walk off with one of his rifles."

I winced and lowered my gaze at the old woman's statement.

"And... you knew... Jack — er... Jacob personally?" I asked quietly.

Rosalyn nodded with a grimace.

"I did," she replied, "he and I were... old friends back when he was in the King's Army."

"Ah..."

I'm actually not all that surprised, surprisingly.

An awkward silence fell upon the both of us for a few moments before I spoke up again.

"It's... fine I guess — about the drugged tea I mean," I said, opting to change the subject, "it worked in my favor in the end. I did have an odd feeling there was something off about you though," I admitted, "that was why I didn't want to come with you initially."

"Really?" the old woman replied with a raised brow, "then that just means you've got good instincts, Miss Sparkle. You were certainly right to be suspicious of me, and if you're smart, you'll trust those instincts. If something seems wrong, assume it's wrong until you can prove otherwise without a shadow of a doubt.

"The fact that you were carrying one of Jacob's bags and rifles is what tipped me off that something was going on, after all," she explained, "there was also the matter of your reaction in town along with your strange appearance."

I nodded in response, taking her words to heart.

She's right, I thought with a frown, If I'm going to survive in this place I need to start being more careful about what I do and who I talk to. And speaking of...

"Just what did you do to me anyway?" I asked, more out curiosity than accusation, "I heard you say something about... what was it? Imperium root?"

"Ah, yes," Rose said with another wry chuckle, "imperium root — or more specifically, the solution extracted from the root of the imperium plant. Extremely hard to come by, but very worth it if you're trying to get information."

"Yeah, no kidding..." I muttered, "I'm not an expert on poisons or drugs, but I'm assuming you put it in something I consumed — the tea most likely."

"Right you are, dear," Rosalyn said with a smirk, "completely odorless and tasteless. Although..." she frowned and eyed me warily, "the effects of the imperium root extract takes seconds to work on the hardiest of individuals, yet it took considerably longer to put you under — and even when you did go under, you had the mental fortitude to resist one of my questions."

She leaned back and folded her arms, giving me another odd look.

"You certainly are a strange one, Miss Sparkle," she commented, "I don't suppose you'd tell me where you came from now that we're on... relatively friendly terms again?"

"You... wouldn't believe me if I told you..." I muttered, looking away uncomfortably, "believe me, it's really out there."

"Girl, I'm old," Rosalyn replied, resting an arm on the table, "I've seen some very strange and very fantastical things in my day. I'm willing to bet this can't be any stranger than say... an entire metropolis built atop a massive subterranean lake? Or how about a city suspended over a crater twelve miles wide by giant chains?"

I blinked.

"Um, wow..." I replied, somewhat stunned, "that definitely sounds... out there," I shook my head and got back on track, "but I'm pretty sure where I come from is stranger than even that."

"Try me, girl," Rosalyn responded, "even if it's a lie, you've got me curious."

"Well, alright," I replied with a sigh, "if you absolutely have to know, I'm not even..."

"...Not even what, dear?"

I had opened my mouth, but no words came out.

It was like something had stolen them away.

I frowned and tried again.

"I'm actually not..."

Nothing.

Not a word.

"Is this some kind of joke, girl?" Rosalyn said with an impatient frown, "because if it is, I don't find it funny."

"Nono, it's... I can't..." I tried again and again, but the words wouldn't come, "I can't tell you."

Rosalyn glared at me for a moment before letting out a sigh.

"Well, I guess that's that then," she said with leaning back once more, "if you don't want to tell me—"

"No, that's just it!" I cried in bewilderment, "it's not that I don't want to tell you — I literally can't tell you! The words won't come out of my mouth!"

Rosalyn raised an eyebrow as she observed my reaction.

"Now that's queer," she responded after a moment. "if that's true, then I suppose that would explain why you couldn't answer my question earlier. Maybe it's more of this Magic at work."

"I... I don't know," I said as I tried to calm myself down, "maybe?"

She hummed in thought before leaning forward and resting her arms on the table as she spoke.

"Well, I'll leave it be for now," the old woman said after a moment, "why don't you tell me more about what happened back at the cabin instead."

I gave her a nod and a small smile.

It wasn't that I was eager to relive the events of that night, but I had to admit that it felt good to tell someone about what happened. I trusted Rosalyn about as much as she did me — that is to say somewhat, but not a lot — but still, I felt like I'd go crazy if I had to keep the horrible events of last night all to myself.

So I told Rosalyn everything that had occurred at Jack's cabin, from the time I woke up in Jack's bed, to my encounter with the Headhunter and all the way to when I had buried Jack and left the mountain.

During my tale, Rosalyn had offered me more tea, promising it contained no imperium root, and I naturally refused — though I did partake in more of the crumb cake.

For all the things that had happened to me, the actual conversation was rather on the short side, lasting only about half an hour or so before I reached the end of the story. As I finished my tale, Rosalyn sat there, mulling over everything she had heard.

I decided not to interrupt her musings, figuring she'd have more questions once she had thought everything over. I myself sat staring at my now empty plate with a contemplative frown.

I had the strangest feeling I had forgotten something in my story, but I couldn't put my finger on what it could've been. It was as though the memory slipped out of my grasp just as I was about to recall it.

Before I could think on it any further, Rosalyn finally spoke.

"So Jessie ended up dying in that forest after all..." she muttered, a look of immense sadness showing on her wrinkled old face, "the poor child didn't deserve such a fate — none of them did. Not Jacob, not his son, his daughter, or their child."

I said nothing, only giving a simple nod in response. The old woman was quiet for a moment more before her face hardened and she shook her head in disgust.

"At the very least we may not have to worry about that abomination anymore," her scowl became a genuinely grateful smile as she turned to face me, "if that thing really is dead, then you've done the world a great service, girl."

She paused for a moment as though she was trying to remember something.

"Oh, and don't worry about the grave marker, dear," she said with a warm smile, "I'll make sure both Jacob and Jessie get proper headstones tomorrow."

"Thank you," I replied with a grateful smile of my own, "that... that means a lot."

"Of course," the old woman responded, "he may have been a handful as my subordinate back in the Army, but he was a good man that looked out for his family."

I nodded in agreement before looking away with an uncertain frown.

I wasn't sure how I felt about being praised for murder — even if I did agree that the Headhunter needed to die. I didn't have too much time to ruminate on the matter as Rosalyn's next words caught my attention.

"I'll need to send a message to the Order to have someone confirm the corpse," Rosalyn was saying, "but if it turns out the Headhunter is dead, you can be sure that the town will know you're the one that killed it," she leaned back in her chair and smirked, "I guarantee you won't have to worry about fitting in here, that's for sure."

My first instinct was to object to the statement, but then I stopped and thought about it.

The Headhunter did need to be stopped and being praised would make it easier to find some work, but wait, I frowned as another thought hit me, hang on a minute...

"What did you mean by the 'Order'?" I asked curiously, "what Order?"

"The Order of Nox Atra," Rosalyn clarified, "an independent organization of knights dedicated to eradicating threats like the Headhunter."

"Huh," I replied thoughtfully, "and you're part of this Order of Nox Atra?"

"Oh no, dear," Rosalyn replied with a small chuckle, "I'm much too old to do the kinds of things they do."

Could've fooled me...

"No, I'm not a member of the Order," Rosalyn continued, "but I believe in their cause and do what I can to help them from time to time."

"I see," I nodded once in understanding and a realization dawned on me, "those people that come to visit you from out of town, are they—"

"From the Order?" Rosalyn finished with a knowing smirk, "indeed they are, dearie," she frowned, "it was one of their members that gave me the letter to deliver to Jacob — an old friend of his if I remember correctly."

"Right," I said with a slow nod, "now that I think back on it with what I know now, the letter did imply that Jack — Jacob was part of this Order of Nox Atra."

"So you did end up reading the letter after all, did you?"

"I... well..." I faltered, rubbing an arm and looking away guiltily, "I couldn't exactly deliver it... so..."

Rosalyn gave another small chuckle and raised a hand placatively.

"Relax, girl it's fine," she replied, "in fact, you getting a hold of his letter might be a blessing in disguise."

"What do you mean?" I asked in confusion, "how is me getting the letter possibly be a good thing?"

The old woman said nothing for a few moments as she tapped a finger on the table and look off in a seemingly random direction. I just sat there wondering what she could be thinking about regarding me and the letter.

Eventually, she nodded to herself as though she had come to a decision and got up from the table. I watched as she made her way to what I presumed was the bedroom and stepped inside before closing the door.

I frowned and turned to stare at the table in front of me.

What is this all about? I thought to myself as I waited for Rosalyn to return, she said that receiving the letter was a blessing in disguise... but why?

I ran a number of possible reasons through my head, but I couldn't think of anything concrete or plausible. I sat there in contemplative silence for another few minutes or so before the bedroom door opened and Rosalyn stepped back out.

"I'd like you to do me a favor if it's not too much trouble, Miss Sparkle," the old woman announced as she walked back over to the table, "but before I tell you what it is..."

She sat back down and it was only then that I noticed that she was holding another sealed envelope. She set the envelope down on the table and looked at me with a solemn yet still somewhat friendly expression.

"...let me tell you a bit more about the Order of Nox Atra."

"Alright," I replied with an eager smile, "do you mind if I document the conversation?"

"I... what?" Rosalyn asked, blinking in confusion, "I don't see why not, but—"

"Great!"

I turned and raised a glowing hand towards my bag. Rosalyn pushed back from the table in surprise as a fountain pen and several sheets of paper flew out of the bag and over to the table.

I ignored her and started using my Magic to scribble down everything we had discussed so far. It felt as though some kind of switch had been flipped and all my worries were drowned out by the excitement of learning something new and interesting.

It felt great.

"I should've done this earlier but I didn't think..." I muttered to myself as I continued my frantic scribbling, "just gimme a minute to catch up..."

After roughly five minutes or so, I dotted the end of the last sentence with a Magic flourish.

"Aaaand... done!" I announced happily, "sorry about that, Rose. You can go ahead and..."

I looked up from my notes to see the old woman staring at me with a mix of awe and wariness. I slowly lowered the pen and my notes down to the table and gave Rosalyn a sheepish grin.

"Um..." I coughed and rubbed an arm awkwardly, "sorry about that. I don't know what happened, I just... kinda got carried away all of a sudden."

"For someone who just suddenly stumbled upon this 'Magic'," the woman said somewhat suspiciously, "you sure do know what you're doing with it, girl."

"Well, I..." I swallowed and looked away, "I practiced with it a bit before I left the cabin and a little more on my way down the mountain."

Not a complete lie, but not exactly the truth either.

"...I see," Rosalyn muttered, "you said you had regained some of your memories when you got attacked by the Headhunter, right?"

"Y... yes?" I replied worriedly, "I remembered a bit about where I came from, but I can't tell you about it for some reason."

"Right," Rosalyn agreed with a nod, "I'm thinking that your 'Magic' might have something to do with that, and from what I've just seen, I'm also thinking you know more about your own 'Magic' than you're letting on."

I hesitated for a moment before letting out a sigh.

Why am I still trying to hide things from her? I thought, I've more or less already told her everything I know, and she already knows I can use Magic.

I turned back to Rosalyn and nodded.

"I did indeed practice my Magic back on the mountain," I admitted, "but I... I... oh come on!"

I grunted and rubbed my face in frustration.

"What?" Rosalyn asked with a furrowed brow, "don't tell me you can't—"

I shook my head and sighed again.

"I'm sorry Rosalyn," I said, looking back to the old woman with an apologetic frown, "I really want to tell you all about it, but I can't. Every time I try, it's like I temporarily lose my ability to speak."

Rosalyn gave a dissatisfied grunt of her own and tapped the table with a finger.

"Well, I suppose there's nothing for it," she said after a moment, "we were getting off-topic anyway."

I gave her one last apologetic look before raising my pen and papers once more. She eyed the floating writing utensils before shaking her head and clearing her throat.

"So... the Order," she began, "I won't bore you with the entire history, but the Order of Nox Atra was founded sometime... oh I'd say sometime about six hundred fifty... maybe seven hundred years ago, by a man named Alrik.

"No one knows much about him — at least not anymore — but legend says that before he made the Order, he traveled across the world, slaying all manner of monsters and demons.

"Over time, word of his deeds had spread across every land he visited and he eventually came to be known as Alrik the Hunter — an uninspired name, but a well-deserved one nonetheless."

I stopped writing and looked back to Rosalyn — a hunch forming in my mind.

"Did this... Alrik, happen to use a Spellblade?" I asked curiously.

Rosalyn smiled and gave a nod of approval.

"You catch on quick, dear," she replied, "as far as anyone knows, he was the first one to wield a Spellblade, and he used it to great effect."

I gave a nod of my own and returned my attention to my notes.

"So as I was saying," Rosalyn continued, "Alrik's reputation grew and grew and before anyone knew it, people had begun following in his footsteps. Many were fools, getting themselves killed as they tried to make a name for themselves.

"Still, others had some success and a few even gained some renown — though none had ever shown as brightly as Alrik. As the years went by Alrik grew older and weaker, but with lagging strength came growing wisdom. Alrik knew he could no longer fight as he once did and so formed a plan.

"Rather than do any more fighting, he called out to all would-be monster hunters to come together and form one unified strength. It was said to take several years, but eventually, the Order of Nox Atra was formed, named so for the all-consuming blackness of the Moon Goddess' night sky."

I stopped writing again.

I only just now realized this, but these Goddesses everyone kept talking about were starting to sound an awful lot like...

I shook my head and continued documenting.

There was something to be investigated there, but it wasn't terribly pressing at the moment and I didn't want to miss out on what Rosalyn was telling me.

"No matter your cause or beliefs, aim to destroy that which would destroy all."

I raised an eyebrow at the old woman.

"The Order's creed, or motto, or whatever you'd like to call it," she clarified, "these were the words spoken by Alrik upon the Order's official founding — words the Order still lives by to this day."

"So if I'm understanding this right," I surmised, "this Order of Nox Atra is a group that's dedicated hundreds of years to hunting down monsters?"

"In a nutshell, yes," Rosalyn replied, "they have branches all over the world and are called upon constantly to deal with all manner of threats — from the mightiest beasts of Hestenia to the direst demons of Tartarus."

"And I don't suppose they do this all for free?" I asked pointedly.

"Of course they don't," Rosalyn replied with a scoff, "people are risking their lives trying to kill these monsters, Miss Sparkle. Not only that, but the Order needs funds to provide weapons, armor, and other supplies to the members that can't afford their own."

"Right, I suppose that makes sense," I conceded with a sheepish grin.

Rosalyn nodded and continued her explanation.

"Jacob never told me too much about their hierarchy, but from what he did say, the fastest way to move up in the Order is to bag yourself an especially tough monster — something even the senior members have trouble with."

I looked up from my notes to see the old woman giving me a significant look. I raised a questioning eyebrow, but she just chuckled and moved on.

"The Order of Nox Atra is a massive organization, but there are some that only see them as nothing more than crooked mercenaries and bounty hunters," she shook her head in disappointment, "I will admit, I've seen some nasty characters from the Order, but for the most part, the men and women of the Order are upstanding and understanding folk.

"How would you go about joining the Order?" I asked curiously.

My question was mostly for posterity's sake rather than an actual desire to join, but when I raised my head to face Rosalyn, I could see an eager glint in her eyes.

"I'm glad you asked, dear," she answered somewhat enthusiastically, "there's a recruiting center in Ruvenbor. All you'd have to do is sign up and you'll be given a series of written and practical tests to gauge your strength, skill, and wit. If you pass that, the Order moves you up to—"

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute!" I cried, taken aback by the woman's sudden enthusiasm, "I am absolutely not looking to join this Order!" I let out a calming breath and spoke again, "I'm just asking for the sake of my own documentation."

Now I think I see what she might've meant when she said receiving the letter was a blessing, I thought with a grimace, she wanted me to join this Order of Nox Atra.

"I see," Rosalyn replied looking somewhat dejected, "I'm sorry, dear, I was hoping... well nevermind what I was hoping."

"No, I'm the one that's sorry, Rose," I responded with a sad smile, "it sounds like it'd be quite the honor to join the Order, but I'm just not cut out for it," I slowly shook my head, "it was pure luck that allowed me to kill the Headhunter. I have no real skill in combat myself, I mean—" I gave the sword in front of me a pointed look "—I don't even know how to use this thing."

"Then why on Hestenia were you granted such a gift?" Rosalyn mused aloud, "from what I was told, anyone who wielded a Spellblade knew how to use it."

"I don't know," I said, raising my arms in exasperation, "like I said, I just... woke up with it in my hands. I apparently have some kind of connection to it, but aside from maybe allowing me to cast Magic, I don't know what it could be."

Rosalyn sat back in her chair and stared at the ceiling contemplatively.

"Ah, well," she muttered after a moment, "more's the pity, I suppose," she lowered her head back down to look at me, "still, I've told you all I can tell you about the Order. If you want to know more, you'll have to ask one of their members directly."

I nodded and set all the papers down on the table to let the ink dry for a bit.

"Well, thanks for telling me all of this, Rose," I said with a grateful smile, "and again, I'm sorry I can't join the Order like you wanted."

"That's alright, Miss Sparkle," Rosalyn replied with a wry chuckle, "I was asking too much too fast anyhow. Before I forget though," she took the letter and tapped it against the table as she spoke, "if you ever do decide you're interested in joining the Order, they could probably tell you more about that Spellblade of yours."

I mulled that over for a moment before replying with a satisfied nod.

"I'll keep that in mind, Rose."

Rosalyn smiled at me before tossing the letter in my direction.

"Now, about that favor," she began as I picked up the letter, "I know you were planning on staying here in Thatch to look for work, but I don't think it would be a good idea — at least, not now. It'll take some time for the Order to get everything cleared up with the Headhunter and until then, you're going to have problems with the locals here."

I frowned and looked back at the old woman.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right, but..." I looked back down at the letter forlornly, "what else am I supposed I do? Where do I even go from here?"

"Well for starters," Rosalyn replied, rising from her seat and tapping the envelope, "you could deliver this letter to the Order's Ruvenbor Branch Office for me."

I turned my attention back to Rosalyn with a look of surprise.

"You want me to go to Ruvenbor?" I asked incredulously, "but... but what about—"

"Don't worry about your appearance, dear," Rosalyn called out as she stepped back into her room, "the people of Ruvenbor aren't nearly as paranoid as the folk in this town. There's already so many strange folks in that city you won't even warrant a passing glance."

I looked from the doorway she had just entered, to the letter in my hand.

First that mailman back on the mountain and now this, I thought with an irritated snort What am I, some sort of errand girl?

I sighed and floated the letter into my bag on the floor.

"Well, it's not like I have anything else to do or anywhere else to be at the moment..." I muttered despondently.

"What was that, dear?" Rosalyn asked, stepping out of the room with a small pouch, "didn't quite catch that."

"I'll deliver the letter for you, Rose," I said a bit louder, "after all, I don't know what else to do. I'm more or less completely lost in a... in a place I don't really understand."

I slumped over the table with a heavy sigh and flinched back when a pouch dropped down in front of me. From the impact it made as it hit the table, it sounded like there were coins in the bag.

"You know what'll help you?" Rosalyn asked with a soft smile.

"What?" I replied half-heartedly.

"Friends."

I raised my head to look at the old woman and got a poke to the forehead with one of her bony fingers for my trouble.

"You need to find some trustworthy people to help you — or that you could help along the way. If you find yourself without a purpose in life, then make one. Look around, talk to people, pay attention to what goes on in the world."

She leaned closer and gave me a small wink as she pushed the pouch over to me.

"Who knows, girl," she continued, "you just might find some folk who'll watch your back no matter how bad things get for you. You just might find out what you're meant to do in this dangerous world we call Hestenia. Just keep your eyes, ears, and mind open."

I grabbed the pouch and pulled it open.

Inside I saw several copper bits, silver bits, and even a few gold bits here and there. I looked back to Rosalyn and went to protest, but she forestalled me with a withered hand and a solemn look.

"Don't worry about the money, dear," she said with a single shake of her head, "I've got plenty more where that came from, trust me."

"I... what about your son?" I asked without thinking, "doesn't he—"

"Girl, that son of mine can make his own damn money working in town," Rosalyn said with a huff, "you need this a lot more than he does."

I stared at the open pouch in my hands for a moment before another thought struck me.

"Does your son know about... y'know... you being..."

"What, part of the King's Army?" she finished, "Nah, the only person around here that knew about my past was Jacob and he's... well..." she grimaced and looked down at the table, "he ain't gonna be telling anybody anytime soon."

She shook her head and looked back at me.

"No, everyone around here thinks I'm just a withered old rose that's gone blind in her old age."

I chuckled slightly at the joke, but then frowned in bemusement.

"Why are you pretending to be blind anyway?" I asked in confusion, "I mean, I could understand you trying to fool me, but why the rest of the townspeople?"

"Oh who knows, girl," Rosalyn answered with a secret smile, "maybe I've grown tired of doing things on my own. Maybe I just like the extra attention and kindness I get for being a helpless old bat."

I could tell she wasn't being truthful — given how she reacted when I tried to help her earlier — but I couldn't help but laugh anyway. After a second Rosalyn gave a small chuckle of her own and for a few moments, we both shared a laugh.

Eventually, I stopped laughing and looked back to the pouch with an uncertain frown.

"So... just how many bits are in here?" I asked tentatively.

"Fifty copper, twenty-five silver, and seven gold in all," Rosalyn replied, "it's not a terribly high amount of bits, but it'll get you some food and a place to stay for a while — though I suggest saving a bit for your trip."

I gave the bag one last look before placing it in one of the pockets inside my tunic and turning to Rosalyn with a grateful smile.

"Thank you for all your help, Rose," I said earnestly, "you've given me... a lot to think about tonight."

"Think nothing of it, dear," Rosalyn replied with a dismissive wave, "I know we got off on the wrong foot and I do apologize about that, but I want you to know I'm rooting for you, Miss Sparkle," she gave me a reassuring nod, "I may not know who you are or where you came from, but after sitting down to talk to you, I feel I can trust you a bit more."

She stood from the table once more and paused.

"Oh, before I forget..." she rose the rest of the way and hurried into the back room. She returned a moment later with what looked like a large rolled-up scroll in her hand, "...You're going to need this if you plan on traveling anywhere, girl."

I took the scroll an unfurled it to reveal a large map of Vale. I briefly scanned it, committing the various landmarks, towns, and cities to memory before nodding in satisfaction. I rolled the scroll back up and dropped it into the bag along with all my notes on the Order of Nox Atra before latching the whole thing shut.

I then levitated the bag, the rifle, and my sword over to a nearby wall, before turning back to Rosalyn.

"I really can't thank you enough, for every—"

"You've already thanked me far too many times, girl," Rosalyn chided, before heading back to her room, "now, I believe that's everything for the moment, unless you had any more questions for me?"

I thought for a moment.

"Oh, yeah," I said after a minute, "as you probably already noticed, I've been having... panic attacks lately."

"Oh, yes, I've noticed alright," Rosalyn replied as she crossed her arms, "I had meant to ask about that, actually."

"Well, I'm not too sure why it's been happening," I answered worriedly, "it didn't start until I got into town. It wasn't even this bad when I first woke up."

Rosalyn hummed to herself thoughtfully.

"Maybe it's some kind of... delayed reaction from everything you've experienced up until now," she guessed, "I'd imagine meeting the Headhunter face-to-face and witnessing the atrocities it committed firsthand would've been traumatizing, to say the least."

"Yeah... you're right about that..." I replied quietly, before shaking my head with a sigh, "maybe it is everything that's happened so far, I don't know. I just hope it doesn't last."

"I'm sure you'll get over it eventually, dear," Rosalyn said with an understanding smile, "for now, all you can do is move on with your life and hope that things will get better down the road."

"Right," I said with a nod, "so... you're going to bed then?"

"I am, and I'll probably be gone when you wake up," Rosalyn answered with a disgruntled frown, "I've got to get up early to go pick up that no good son of mine from the tavern before he causes any more trouble," her smile returned a moment later, "there's already a blanket on the couch and since my son isn't coming back tonight, you're free to use it."

I eyed the couch and blanket warily and Rosalyn chuckled.

"Don't worry, dear, I already washed the blanket and cleaned the couch.

I breathed a small sigh of relief and nodded my thanks to the old woman.

"Well then... I guess this is goodnight," I said rather awkwardly, "talking to you was... interesting."

Rosalyn let out a bark of laughter and shook her head.

"I can certainly say the same, Miss Sparkle," she replied with an amused grin, "oh, and be sure to use your alias when you're traveling. I honestly don't know how much help it'll be, but it's better than just having a last name."

"I will," I replied, "thanks again, Rose, and goodnight."

"Goodnight, dear," she responded before giving me a hard glare, "and remember, if you try to run off into the night with anything of mine, I'll know, and I will find you."

With that, her kind smile returned and she hit a switch on the wall that dimmed the amber glow of the various lamps around the room and walked into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

I shuddered and walked over to the couch. As uncomfortable as it was, I didn't bother to remove my tunic or makeshift leggings. It was only then that I realized to my dismay, that I had neglected to pack any extra clothes and Rosalyn hadn't provided me any either.

I just sighed in resignation and removed my boots and gloves before flopping down onto the couch and adjusting myself so that I was on my back. I stared at the ceiling without really seeing it — my mind too preoccupied with everything that had happened throughout the night.

There were still a lot of things that didn't make any sense, and despite Rosalyn's rather unexpected generosity and reassurances, I still felt completely lost and alone. She said to find someone trustworthy and make friends, but how?

Where did I start?

Should I approach someone? or should I wait for someone to talk to me?

I felt an odd sort of familiarity in my current dilemma that I couldn't quite place.

Regardless of my purpose — or lack thereof — there were still several mysteries I needed to solve. As I turned my tired gaze to the sword leaning against the wall, I thought again about where it had even come from.

I was now certain I wasn't any kind of warrior back in my... past life, and the more I thought about it, the surer I was that the sword didn't even exist back where I came from.

So how did I get it?

How did I manage to get my hands on some legendary weapon from this world before I even arrived here? For that matter, why was any of this even happening to me?

I still had a fractured, blurry feeling of some vague and horrible thing befalling me right before I woke up in that white void, but there was nothing more than that.

I was beginning to think it was for the best that I traveled to Ruvenbor — if for no other reason than to find out more about what I had gotten myself into. Rosalyn was right, I certainly wasn't going to find out anything here with how wary the townsfolk—

"Good evening, Stella Sparkle."

My thoughts shattered to pieces as I whipped my head around to face the living room window.

Glowing yellow orbs stared back at me in the darkness of the night. The formless shape stood out only slightly against the pale light of the moon and remained as unmoving as ever.

It was only then that I remembered what I had left out of the story I told Rosalyn.

"Owlowiscious... right?" I asked once my heart had stopped beating a mile a minute.

"Ah, so you remembered my name," the creature said with its odd laughter, "how thoughtful of you, Miss Sparkle."

"What..." I closed my mouth and cast a glance at the bedroom door before turning back to Owlowiscious, "what do you want from me?" I hissed quietly, "why do you keep following me everywhere?"

"Because you interest me."

"...What?" I asked incredulously, "that's it?"

"Well, no," Owlowiscious conceded, "but that's the only answer you're getting out of me... for now," it tilted it's head slightly as it stared at me, "there was something I wanted to let you know before you left to go seek your destiny."

I had a bad feeling about what Owlowiscious was going to say, but once again, my curiosity won out in the end.

"And just what was it you wanted to tell me?" I asked warily.

"It's about those sudden panic attacks of yours."

My eyes widened and I stood up from the couch.

"You know something about the panic attacks?" I asked urgently, "what's causing them? Was it because of the Headhunter?"

"Indeed it was, Miss Sparkle," it said with another chuckle, "but not in the way you think."

"What do you mean?"

Owlowiscious continued to chuckle in amusement.

"Owlowiscious, what are you talking about?" I pressed, growing more frustrated by the thing's mocking laughter, "just tell me, please!"

"No one knows this, because they never live long enough to experience it, but the Headhunter is actually a very poisonous creature."

I gaped at the formless shape in the window.

He laughed and continued his explanation.

"Oh, yes, girl, I'm implying exactly what you think I'm implying," it's head tilted from one side to the other as it spoke, "you've been poisoned by the Headhunter, and I imagine it's having a rather... unique effect on you — and before you ask, yes I know the symptoms and no I'm not going to tell you what they are."

I fell limply back onto the couch and stared at my shaking hands.

"W-What did it do to me?" I muttered in horror, my heartbeat quickening again, "am... am I going to die?"

Owlowiscious was silent for another moment, as though contemplating whether or not to answer.

"If you're worried about losing your life to the poison, don't be," the creature replied slowly, "you will not die."

"Then what's going to—"

"Ah, now that would be telling, Stella," Owlowiscious replied mockingly, "that's all I'm telling you for now. It seems you've caught the old woman's attention."

"Wait—"

I heard the bedroom door creak open and snapped my panicked gaze towards the sound. Rosalyn stepped partway out of the room and hit the light switch.

"Are you... alright, dear?" Rosalyn asked with a concerned frown, "it sounded like you were having a conversation with yourself just now."

I turned back to the window the see that creature was gone.

Of course it was.

I willed myself to calm down before facing Rosalyn with a sheepish grin that came out looking more nervous than anything.

"I'm... I'm fine, Rose," I replied weakly, "I... was just thinking out loud is all. Lots of... stuff to process, y'know?"

Rosalyn gave me an unreadable expression before slowly nodding and hitting the lights once more.

"If you say so, girl," she finally responded, "just keep it down, alright?"

I nodded.

"I will, Rose," I said with an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry."

Rosalyn nodded and moved back into the bedroom before closing the door.

Once she was gone, I fell back onto the couch and curled up on my side. shivering.

What's going on? I thought as I panicked silently, what did he mean? What did the Headhunter do to me?

I continued to fret over the new revelation as well as everything else for a good while longer before sleep finally claimed me.

IT IS FINALLY DONE!!!

Sorry about the long wait guys. I have no excuse for this one, save my desire to write more stories getting in the way of finishing this one.

I might actually end up shortening the length of the chapters to cut down on the time between each update. Tell me if you guys think it's a good idea or if I should stick with trying to put out the super long chapters, because with how long it took for this one, I'm honestly not too sure what would be best at the moment...

Either way the new chapter is out!

Also, a rule of thumb for this story...

Owlowiscious is always watching.