The gentle touch of dawn found Lili curled tightly beneath the protective, gnarled roots of the ancient tree, her small form nearly hidden beneath Arthur's heavy black cloak. A delicate mist lingered heavily in the forest, draping the landscape in a soft, silvery veil. Gradually, consciousness seeped back into her mind, gently drawing her from deep slumber toward wakefulness.
She stirred softly, her eyelids fluttering open with reluctance. Her body felt pleasantly warm despite the chill of early morning, comforted by the reassuring presence of the fox family curled closely around her. Scar lay calmly beside her, breathing steadily, his russet fur rising and falling rhythmically. Sleemo nestled protectively on her other side, her sleek body a comforting presence. The four little pups were tucked warmly against Lili's legs, their tiny noses twitching occasionally as they dreamed.
A gentle smile bloomed across Lili's sleepy face. She remained perfectly still for a precious moment, savoring the rare feeling of warmth, companionship, and belonging. Yet the peace was fleeting, gently interrupted by the quiet, insistent growling of her empty stomach. She giggled softly to herself, slightly embarrassed by the sound.
"Y-yeah, I know," she whispered sheepishly, patting her belly apologetically. "I'm h-hungry too. Guess we'd better w-wake up and eat something, huh?"
Slowly, she sat up, moving cautiously to avoid disturbing the slumbering foxes. Her movements stirred Scar first; the fox lazily opened one golden eye, then the other, before rising gracefully to stretch, arching his back elegantly. Sleemo followed suit, gently rousing their sleepy pups. The tiny foxes yawned adorably, blinking their bright eyes awake and immediately tumbling about playfully in the leaf-strewn clearing.
"Good morning, e-everyone," Lili greeted them softly, her voice shy yet warmly affectionate. "Did you sleep w-well? I sure did, th-thanks to you."
She reached into her worn basket, pulling out the small handful of berries she had carefully saved from the previous day. Holding them out, she offered them gently to Scar, who sniffed them curiously before delicately taking one into his sharp jaws. Sleemo and the playful pups eagerly joined, nibbling carefully from Lili's open palm. Their wet noses tickled her fingers, drawing another gentle laugh from her lips.
"You know," she said softly, "this r-reminds me of… Thumper, in Bambi. 'If you c-can't say something nice, d-don't say nothing at all.' You guys always h-have something nice to say—even if you c-can't really talk."
Her voice softened with affection, anxiety slowly melting away in their comforting companionship. Scar nuzzled her hand softly, as though sensing her lingering worries. Taking a deep breath, Lili felt safe and accepted in their silent, warm presence.
Yet soon after finishing their modest breakfast, the foxes grew restless. Sleemo carefully gathered her playful pups, nudging them gently toward the deeper forest. Scar lingered quietly, sitting calmly beside Lili, gazing at her with profound, intelligent eyes that seemed to understand more than mere animal instincts.
A sudden pang of loneliness tightened painfully in Lili's chest as realization dawned on her.
"Y-you're leaving, aren't you?" she whispered sadly, her voice small and hesitant.
Scar inclined his head slightly, acknowledging her question with gentle dignity.
Lili's heart ached softly, yet she managed a brave smile, blinking back sudden tears. "I guess it's okay," she murmured gently, her voice wavering slightly. "Just remember what Winnie the Pooh says: 'H-how lucky I am to have something that m-makes saying goodbye so hard.'"
Reaching out carefully, she stroked Scar's warm fur one final time, savoring the softness beneath her fingertips. "Goodbye, Scar," she whispered sincerely, "I p-promise I'll see you again someday. S-someday soon."
Scar gently pressed his head into her palm for a moment longer, sharing a silent farewell, before gracefully padding after Sleemo and their pups. Together, the fox family disappeared quietly into the silvery morning mist, leaving Lili sitting in thoughtful silence beneath the ancient tree.
For several moments she remained there, breathing deeply and absorbing the tranquil stillness of the forest. Eventually, determination stirred her to her feet. She stretched slowly, testing her limbs and balance cautiously.
Suddenly, a curious realization struck her. She raised her hands in confusion, closely examining them—astonished to see that her painful injuries from yesterday's fall had completely vanished. Even the bruises and scrapes on her knees had disappeared, leaving her skin smooth and unblemished.
"W-weird," she murmured in wonder, turning her hands over in disbelief. "I-I know I was hurt yesterday…but now everything's healed again." A shy, awed smile curved her lips. "You're pretty amazing, heart-glow—like having my own little bit of Disney magic."
She giggled softly at the thought, her heart suddenly lighter. Wrapping Arthur's cloak firmly around herself again, she glanced toward the winding stream ahead, determination rising strong within her once more.
"N-no more falling today," she whispered sternly, pointing an accusing finger toward the slippery stones lurking beneath the shallow water. "I'm w-watching you, evil rocks. I'm a ninja now—nothing can beat a ninja!"
With exaggerated care, she began to step forward, navigating carefully over moss-covered rocks and slick terrain. Gradually her cautious steps turned into gentle humming, the quiet melody steadying her nerves and banishing her nervous stammer. Her voice strengthened with each confident note, echoing sweetly through the awakening forest.
The mist began lifting slowly, golden sunlight piercing through the leafy canopy, illuminating her path clearly. Singing softly yet confidently, Lili continued onward along the stream's winding course, buoyed by renewed determination, the warmth of friendship, and the promise of adventure that lay just beyond.
The morning brightened steadily, sunlight filtering gently through leafy branches, casting dancing patterns of gold upon the forest floor. Lili moved confidently along the winding stream, her cautious steps quickly growing bolder, more certain, each stride firming her newfound determination. The mist gradually faded, replaced by a lively chorus of cheerful bird songs, as if the forest itself was encouraging her onwards.
As she walked, Lili's quiet humming slowly transformed into a joyful, energetic melody, filling the woods with a carefree innocence. Suddenly inspired, her voice rose in playful confidence, singing loudly and clearly into the fresh forest air:
"Tell me why... I need another pet rock—Tell me why... I got that Alf alarm clock—Tell me why... I bid on Shatner's old toupee—They had it on eBay!"
Her song echoed softly through the trees, startling a few birds from their branches. Lili laughed heartily, feeling a surge of happiness rise warmly within her chest. She couldn't help but imagine returning to civilization soon, her heart set on discovering bright, bustling streets filled with modern conveniences like McDonald's, Starbucks, and—if she dared to dream—maybe even an actual eBay auction or comic convention. The very idea filled her with gleeful anticipation.
Yet her brow furrowed slightly as she remembered the strange, unsettling men she'd encountered earlier near the forest pool. Those rough-looking medieval warriors had seemed frighteningly realistic—almost too realistic. She pondered for a moment, shaking her head gently. "They were probably just really good cosplayers," she whispered, attempting to reassure herself. "Yeah, that's it! They were just scary cosplayers. Especially that creepy guy named Bob… he totally looked like Gollum from Lord of the Rings."
Still, she shivered slightly, quickly pushing away those thoughts. Returning swiftly to her upbeat melody, she sang even louder now, pushing away lingering anxieties with her whimsical parody song, each step forward bringing renewed confidence and purpose:
"I'm highest bidder now—Yeah, I'm highest bidder!"
She giggled to herself, adjusting Arthur's cloak around her shoulders, imagining herself striding proudly toward a futuristic world full of modern comforts and happy people.
After nearly an hour of cheerful singing, Lili halted abruptly, eyes widening in surprise. There ahead of her, nestled quietly among lush greenery, was a small, charming stone bridge gracefully arching over the gently flowing stream. Her heart leaped joyfully, excitement quickly overpowering any lingering exhaustion. With an eager squeal, she rushed forward, her bare feet swiftly padding across the soft forest earth until she stood breathlessly before the ancient, moss-covered structure.
Yet, as she stood examining it closely, her enthusiasm dimmed slightly, replaced by quiet disappointment. The bridge was quaint and beautifully crafted, but undeniably old-fashioned. Its weathered stones bore an unmistakable medieval charm, as though she'd stumbled directly into the pages of a history book rather than toward a modern metropolis.
"Aw man," she murmured with a small sigh, disappointment tugging gently at her excitement. "I was hoping for something… newer? Like, metal beams or asphalt roads. Maybe even flying cars?"
She laughed quietly at her own fantasies, yet couldn't completely shake her quiet frustration. Glancing around carefully, she noticed the peaceful yet decidedly primitive surroundings—a simple dirt road crossing the bridge, silence apart from the gentle murmuring stream beneath, and the occasional distant birdcall echoing through the forest canopy.
Her heart sank slightly as uncertainty crept back into her thoughts. She paused, biting her lower lip anxiously. "Should I go back?" she whispered quietly to herself. The sudden memory of Terminator filled her with a gentle pang of guilt. She'd promised him she wouldn't be away for long. And what if her father had finally returned, desperately waiting for her back home?
Lili stood silently, gaze drifting uncertainly across the gentle landscape before her. She saw multiple paths diverging clearly—one forward, following the forest road beyond the bridge; another continuing to follow the familiar stream; still another leading leftward into unknown forest depths. Finally, a road curved invitingly to her right, partially hidden beneath shady trees and dappled sunlight.
Indecision tugged softly at her mind. "What should I do?" she whispered to herself, wrestling with her thoughts. Yet just as quickly, the whimsical logic she often relied upon surfaced once more.
"Well," she reasoned aloud, lifting her chin with playful determination, "right is always right, isn't it?"
She nodded confidently, reassured by her impeccable logic. Without another moment's hesitation, she stepped forward, choosing the road curving gently to her right. Her steps grew bolder again, echoing softly upon the ancient stones of the bridge as she crossed over, her cloak trailing elegantly behind her like a hero's cape.
"Alright, Sir Bridgington von Stoneypants III," she declared with exaggerated formality as she stood at the center of the bridge, hands proudly on her hips. "Thank you kindly for your service. Now, onward to adventure!"
With laughter bubbling happily in her chest, Lili resumed her journey, following the inviting rightward path into the unknown. Her heart surged with renewed excitement, eager to see where fate—and perhaps her whimsical intuition—would lead her next.
Lili trudged onward, each step heavier and slower than the last. Her feet, bruised and aching from the endless miles of forest road, protested sharply with every cautious placement upon the rocky dirt path. Arthur's oversized cloak, now dusty and stained from her long journey, felt oppressively heavy upon her slender shoulders. Her initial cheerful singing had long faded into silence, replaced only by weary sighs and the occasional grumble of her stomach.
The fading sunlight gradually gave way to a dim twilight, shadows stretching silently across the wooded path. She glanced anxiously upward, heart sinking as the fading blue sky melted slowly into shades of deep indigo and dusky purple. Her fingers brushed carefully against the single large berry remaining in her basket—her one final hope for trading, she fantasized, for perhaps a bag of salty potato chips, an ice-cold soda, or maybe just some buttery popcorn.
"J-just one little snack, that's all I want…" she murmured softly, her voice weak but hopeful.
Her stomach growled sharply again, echoing her thoughts insistently. She glanced briefly backward, doubt flickering painfully in her exhausted mind. Yet stubborn determination quickly pushed through the fatigue as the memory of King Leonidas's defiant voice echoed clearly from her past life:
"Spartans! Ready your breakfast and eat hearty, for tonight we dine in Hell!"
She paused, frowning slightly. "No…that wasn't it," she whispered. "Oh, right. He said, 'No retreat, no surrender.' That's the Spartan law."
Drawing fresh strength from the famous line, she clenched her small fist bravely and pushed onward. "I'm a S-Spartan now. Spartans don't quit, and they don't go home without popcorn."
Gradually, the dense forest around her began to thin out, the trees giving way to open space and wider skies. She halted briefly, gazing out at the beautiful transformation of landscape unfolding ahead. The narrow, darkened path widened gently into an open dirt road, flanked gracefully by sweeping fields of golden wheat swaying softly beneath the twilight breeze. For the first time in hours, a fresh breath of open air filled her lungs, relieving the oppressive weight of exhaustion for a precious, fleeting moment.
Her heart soared suddenly in quiet joy, and she allowed herself a small, cautious smile. This was progress—real progress toward civilization, she was certain of it. And then, in the fading twilight, something caught her eye far down the open road.
In the distance stood sturdy wooden gates, towering protectively behind broad, golden fields. Her eyes widened instantly with excited recognition.
"Oh my God," she whispered excitedly, her voice nearly breathless with relief. "I've found it—Bicolline!"
She laughed softly in disbelief, shaking her head at her own foolishness. "Of course! All along, it's been a medieval roleplaying convention, and I didn't even realize it! That explains everything! Art and his medieval cosplay armor, talk about brides and lords, and especially those creepy medieval warriors. They were just really scary cosplayers—really, really good at roleplaying, especially creepy Gollum…Bob."
She giggled quietly at the realization, her shoulders sagging in relief. The confusion she'd felt about Art's strange behavior, about knights, lordships, and royal marriages—it all suddenly seemed utterly clear. It had to be Bicolline, the greatest medieval fantasy convention ever!
Her joy quickly dimmed, however, replaced by quiet concern. Places like these usually required expensive tickets to enter, and she'd arrived utterly penniless, armed only with one oversized berry, a dusty cloak, and hopeful fantasies.
"Oh no," she murmured worriedly, shoulders drooping sadly. "I don't have money for a ticket. And what about food? What if even a soda costs like twenty dollars? Conventions are always expensive."
Yet even as her resolve wavered slightly, determination quickly filled her once more. She straightened proudly, her heart strengthening with stubborn resolve. "No retreat," she whispered firmly, recalling the Spartan king's words again. "I'm already here—I might as well at least try. Besides," she added quietly, grinning, "maybe they'll think I'm a really authentic cosplayer myself. I look exactly like a little medieval hobbit-ninja."
Summoning her courage once more, she moved forward again, each painful step bringing her steadily closer toward the towering wooden gates. The fields around her were nearly golden now beneath the lingering twilight glow, whispering softly with each gentle breeze.
As she approached, the gates loomed ever larger, imposing yet comforting in their promise of civilization, warmth, and—hopefully—food. The walls seemed stronger and sturdier than she'd expected, impressively realistic, built with craftsmanship that far exceeded a mere temporary roleplay structure.
Yet even this realization didn't fully deter her belief. "They must've really upped their budget this year," she whispered admiringly, marveling at the remarkable dedication. "Looks almost too real. I bet inside there are knights in shiny armor and people dressed as elves. Maybe even a wizard or two!"
Her tired pace quickened slightly, excitement bubbling once more in her chest, propelling her onwards despite exhaustion. And, just as the last of twilight faded into full darkness, she stood before the tall, sturdy gates of the village, heart pounding with anticipation and fear.
Drawing a deep breath, she clutched her precious berry tightly, as if it could magically transform into a bag of popcorn at any moment.
"Well," she said nervously, brushing her tangled blond hair back from her face, "h-here goes nothing."
Squaring her shoulders beneath the cloak, Lili bravely stepped forward, raising her small fist to knock upon the wooden gate.
Lili's small, weary knuckles made a soft, ineffective thud against the imposing wooden gates. Her gentle knock echoed faintly, swallowed by the sturdy timber and silence of the evening.
She waited politely, staring upward hopefully at the towering barrier. A long, expectant moment passed, but no response came. Undeterred, Lili tried again, this time slightly harder, knocking repeatedly and politely calling out in a soft, uncertain voice:
"H-Hello? Is anyone there? Could you p-please open the gate?"
Her voice faded gently into silence, unanswered. She shuffled nervously on her tired feet, glancing around uneasily. The soft rustling of the nearby wheat fields and distant chirping of crickets were her only companions in the gathering darkness. Unknown to her, atop the village walls, Old Man Alcott Alsfield was sleeping peacefully, chin resting on his chest, his elderly body comfortably nestled beneath a heavy woolen cloak. Beside him, his sheepdog Fenton snored softly, both blissfully unaware of their late-night visitor.
Lili stood hesitantly, weighing her options. A sudden memory sparked clearly in her mind—an old parkour video from YouTube, where athletes effortlessly scaled tall walls with graceful leaps and kicks.
"Maybe I could d-do that," she whispered with cautious excitement, inspired by the distant memory.
Taking a determined step back, she eyed the wall confidently. Imagining herself as one of those nimble parkour athletes, she dashed forward barefoot, jumped boldly, and kicked off the wooden wall with surprising strength. Yet her small fingers missed the top edge by mere inches. With a soft, surprised squeak, she slipped downwards, tumbling backwards and landing clumsily upon her bottom.
"Oof!" she gasped softly, rubbing her sore backside. A blush warmed her cheeks as embarrassment flickered briefly in her eyes.
"Maybe parkour is harder than it looks," she admitted sheepishly to herself.
Brief doubt crossed her mind, questioning whether her current endeavor was entirely wise—or even legal. But quickly she shook her head, her determination flaring brightly once more. Her gaze sharpened bravely. "N-no," she murmured firmly. "There's no courage without fear. And battle is the greatest redeemer of all—at least, that's what Edge of Tomorrow said. Plus, I'm a ninja now, and this is a cosplay convention. Ninjas are supposed to climb walls."
Taking a deep, calming breath, Lili approached the wall again, this time hugging it firmly with arms spread wide. Pressing her small palms flat against the rough timber, she tried to lift herself slowly, carefully bracing her feet and pushing upwards.
With strained effort, she managed to gain a little height, but soon her tired muscles trembled, and her soft palms, unused to such harsh friction, slipped helplessly from the wood. She fell back awkwardly, landing again on the hard ground with an even louder thump.
Frustrated and slightly embarrassed, Lili frowned up at the stubborn gate. "Fine," she muttered under her breath, "I guess we do this the old-fashioned way."
Scooping up her basket and dusting herself off, she marched stubbornly back to the gate, drew a deep breath, and began pounding relentlessly on the thick wood with both fists. Now she abandoned politeness altogether, raising her voice in desperate, wild cries that echoed sharply through the night like a frightened cat trapped in a corner.
"Yo, open up! I need help!" she shouted with increasing volume, desperation making her voice shrill and crazed. Memories from her past life as an undercover cop surfaced suddenly, and impulsively she found herself quoting the video game gangsters she'd once chased down:
"Hey, CJ! All we had to do was follow the damn train! Open up, homie! Niko, it's your cousin! We gotta go bowling! You hear me, man?"
Her frenzied yelling echoed wildly, piercing the tranquil night. Somewhere high atop the wall, Old Man Alcott jolted awake violently, heart racing in sudden fright.
"Jesus Christ, Fenton!" he shouted in startled confusion, grabbing hastily for his bow. "What the bloody hell is going on out there?"
The old sheepdog barked frantically, running circles around his master as Alcott stood shakily, gripping his bow with trembling hands. Peering cautiously over the battlements, he saw only a small figure—a tiny hooded shape below, illuminated faintly in the moonlight. Immediately suspicious, Alcott ducked swiftly behind the protective battlements again, eyes narrowing warily as he scanned the distant shadows of trees and fields beyond.
It's a trap, he thought grimly, tightening his grip on the bowstring. Bandits hiding in the dark. Using some innocent-looking girl as bait. Clever bastards.
Heart hammering in his chest, the old gatekeeper called out sharply, his voice firm and authoritative, carrying clearly through the night air.
"Who goes there? State your name and your business! And don't you move a muscle, girl—I've got arrows aimed at your friends in the trees!"
Lili's eyes widened sharply at his threatening tone, her excitement faltering quickly into confused worry. She raised her hands instinctively, even though no one could clearly see her.
"Um, m-my name is Lili!" she called up anxiously. "And… I don't have friends! Especially not hiding in the trees! Unless you mean squirrels—I-I know a lot of squirrels, actually. But they're nice. They d-don't rob people, I swear!"
Her voice was earnest, slightly panicked, echoing clearly upwards into the darkness. The old man hesitated at her strange reply, uncertainty flickering across his wrinkled face.
"A likely story!" he finally barked down skeptically, eyes still scanning for imagined threats. "You stay right there—don't you dare move! Fenton! Sniff out those bastards!"
Obediently, Fenton dashed along the battlements, barking furiously at shadows only he could see. Lili stood frozen below, unsure what else to do, hands raised awkwardly above her head, heart pounding nervously.
"Okay!" she called back with desperate sincerity. "I won't move, I promise! But… could I m-maybe come in? I've got this really nice berry I'd like to trade… preferably for chips or soda… or popcorn? Please?"
Her innocent, anxious voice trembled slightly, echoing softly against the tall wooden gates. Above, Old Man Alcott peered cautiously downward once more, confusion warring visibly with suspicion in his aging eyes as he studied the small figure standing bravely beneath the gates of Einsway Village.
Slowly, beside him, the large sheepdog Fenton emerged curiously, poking his shaggy head over the wooden battlements. His dark, gentle eyes sparkled with interest as he observed the tiny intruder below. The old man, however, tightened his grip on his bow, unwilling to lower his guard just yet.
"Who are you really, lass?" Alcott demanded sharply, his voice echoing authoritatively through the silence. "And what are ye truly doing out there all alone in the dark? A little girl like you shouldn't be wandering around without parents. Are you lost? Or perhaps you're an orphan?"
Lili hesitated, the question hitting an unexpectedly sensitive spot deep within her. Orphan? Was she truly an orphan? She'd never actually met her father—though she stubbornly clung to the belief that he was still out there, somewhere, waiting to be found. After a thoughtful pause, she finally responded in a quiet, honest tone.
"N-no, sir. I don't think I'm an orphan… not exactly. I mean, I do have a father somewhere—I'm sure of it—even though I've never actually seen him," she admitted softly. "But I have lots of family in the forest—frogs, deer, squirrels, foxes, birds… and my chickens, especially Terminator. They're all like family to me."
At her innocent but unusual explanation, the old man's suspicious expression faltered into bafflement. With a resigned shake of his head, he quietly made the sign of the cross upon his chest, muttering softly under his breath.
"God help me, I've heard stranger," he grumbled quietly. Shifting uneasily on the battlements, he hesitated another moment before reluctantly turning and retrieving a thick rope, which he carefully tossed over the wall.
"Here," he called down sternly, "grab this rope and climb up quickly. Can't open the gates just yet—I need to be sure there's no one else hiding in them fields. Can't be too careful these days."
Relieved, Lili wasted no time securing her basket and beginning her climb. Her small hands gripped the rope tightly, pulling herself upward with exhausted determination. Just as her fingers grazed the top edge of the wooden battlements, strong, calloused hands reached down abruptly and effortlessly hoisted her up over the wall.
"Kyaahh!" she squeaked in startled surprise, dangling briefly in the air before being set down gently beside the old man.
Alcott's rough face softened instantly into grandfatherly concern. "Sorry, lass—didn't mean to frighten ye. Are you alright?"
Catching her breath, Lili nodded politely, her heart gradually settling. "Y-yes, thank you, sir. I'm okay."
Before she could recover fully, a large, furry presence brushed curiously against her. Looking down, she found herself staring into the friendly, inquisitive face of Fenton, whose fluffy tail wagged cheerfully in greeting.
"Oh, hello there," she whispered warmly, reaching cautiously to pet the dog's soft head. Fenton eagerly pressed closer, enjoying the attention.
Alcott chuckled softly, visibly relaxing. "Don't you worry about old Fenton—he's a good boy. Harmless as they come. Only chases sheep and licks faces."
As Lili smiled shyly at the dog, gently scratching his ears, Alcott straightened up and glanced down into the quiet, moonlit village below. After a thoughtful moment, he offered her a welcoming nod, gesturing toward the dimly lit houses and modest buildings nestled securely within the protective wooden walls.
"Well then, lass, welcome to Einsway Village," he said warmly, a touch of pride coloring his voice. "Ye picked a good night to arrive—everyone's over at the Dancing Dragon Inn, celebrating our new windmill and the promising harvest to come. You might even find yourself some food and a bed for the night."
Lili followed his gaze, taking in the quaint village's strangely familiar yet unfamiliar scene. Despite the relief and excitement of finally finding civilization, questions tugged persistently at her mind. Everything here seemed oddly defensive and strangely old-fashioned, igniting her curiosity even further.
After gently introducing Fenton, the old man finally straightened, brushing off his rough hands and looking down at Lili with a mixture of kindness and stern disapproval.
"Name's Alcott Alsfield," he announced gruffly. "But folk around here mostly just call me Old Man Al. And you, little miss," he scolded gently, shaking a finger at her, "are a fool for wandering alone at night. Don't you know about the dangers lurking outside these walls after sundown?"
Lili shrank slightly beneath his sudden seriousness, her bright eyes widening in surprise at his fierce tone. "I… I didn't really think—"
"Exactly! Didn't think, did ya?" Old Man Al cut in firmly, sounding every bit the worried grandfather he resembled. "Traveling alone at night like you just did is asking for trouble. You're lucky you made it here at all, lass."
He crouched down slowly, bringing himself closer to her eye level. His stern gaze softened into concern. "Listen carefully now—never wander around in the dark again, you hear me? There's things out there in the shadows you can't even begin to imagine."
"L-like what?" Lili asked nervously, shifting her feet uneasily.
Old Man Alcott's voice dropped to a low, serious whisper. "Lycans," he said gravely, eyes darkening with worry. "Terrible creatures, those bloody beasts. They sometimes come across the River Rose, slipping silently into the kingdom to prey on humans and livestock alike. You wouldn't stand a chance against one of them."
Lili's heart quickened slightly, eyes widening even further as she felt a shiver run down her spine. "L-Lycans…? You mean like, actual w-werewolves?"
The old man nodded grimly. "Exactly so. But they're not the worst threat. Even more dangerous—and much more likely to run into—are the bandits. Vicious men who don't just rob travelers like yourself. No, they do far worse. They enslave people—especially young orphans, or lost little girls wandering alone."
"E-enslave?" Lili stammered, eyes blinking in confusion. She tilted her head slightly, trying to make sense of his words. Perhaps he meant something else? Something less severe—like being forced to switch teams at a cosplay event or maybe put in a temporary "time-out."
"You… you mean they'll, like, force you to join their side?" she asked uncertainly. "Or maybe put you in some kind of penalty box for ten minutes? Or take some of your coins as a punishment, right?"
Old Man Alcott stared blankly at her, visibly baffled by her strange response. He shook his head slowly, face suddenly grave, voice hardening into a tone that left no room for misunderstanding.
"No, lass. This ain't some game. Bandits will brand you—mark you with a hot iron heated red-hot over a fire, burning their filthy symbol onto your soft skin," he explained grimly. "Then they'll slap a collar around your neck—solid metal or thick leather bound with iron, impossible to remove without proper tools. You'll be chained and dragged around, forced to obey their every twisted command and do unspeakable things."
Lili felt her stomach twist sharply, all color draining from her face as the true horror of his words sank in. Her innocent eyes widened, genuine fear flickering briefly within them.
Noticing her terror, Alcott's voice softened immediately. He placed a gentle, roughened hand comfortingly upon her shoulder. "Listen, lass. I'm sorry to scare you like that, but you've got to understand. Especially a girl like you—your face, your fair skin, and those deep blue eyes… rare beauty around these parts. You're exactly the type those bastards love to snatch up and sell off for men's sinful pleasures. You'd fetch a mighty high price at the slave market."
Lili trembled slightly, momentarily frozen by shock. She had certainly seen cruelty in her past life as a cop, but slavery? Genuine enslavement? It seemed impossible, unreal—yet the old man's deadly seriousness left no doubt that he spoke the harsh truth.
"But… but, that's horrible…" she whispered faintly.
Alcott squeezed her shoulder gently in reassurance. "You're safe here within these walls, lass, especially with me guarding the gate. But remember: nothing comes free in Einsway Village. You'll have to earn your keep." He pointed down toward the bustling center of the village, where warm lantern lights marked the inviting Dancing Dragon Inn. "Head over to the inn—talk to the bartender or the innkeeper's wife. Ask for work, and they'll give you food, shelter, and perhaps even a permanent place here."
He paused thoughtfully, then added reassuringly, "If, by chance, no one at the inn is willing to help you tonight, look for young Robin, the village hunter, or his father. Good folk, those two. Nearly the richest in the village, you might say—though they've been short on help and lacking women to keep their house tidy and their chickens fed. You could find honest work there easily enough, I'm sure."
Despite her lingering fear, Lili squared her shoulders bravely, puffing out her small chest confidently. She raised her chin with stubborn pride, flexing her tiny muscles with determination.
"Thank you for the warning, Old Man Al," she declared firmly, voice surprisingly strong. "But don't you worry about me. I'm much tougher than I look—I can handle myself!"
Old Man Alcott smiled warmly, genuine admiration flickering briefly within his aged eyes. He nodded approvingly, chuckling softly. "Aye, you've got spirit, lass—I'll give you that. Just promise me you'll be careful from now on. No more nighttime wanderings alone, understood?"
Lili smiled slightly, giving him a reassuring nod. "I promise."
Just as she started to turn away, Old Man Alcott suddenly placed a firm hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. His eyes, now visibly concerned under the moonlight, scanned her face carefully.
"Wait, lass," he murmured softly, lowering his voice further as though wary of being overheard. "Just a moment."
Lili turned curiously, gazing up at him in surprise. His lined face appeared even older in the silvery glow of the moonlight, and as she caught a clearer glimpse of his features, her nose scrunched involuntarily. Alcott's teeth were yellowed and crooked, his skin greasy, and the sour smell of stale sweat radiated from him. His breath, she realized with a faint cringe, was hardly better.
Still, his gaze was kind—grandfatherly even—as he carefully adjusted her cloak, tugging gently at the fabric around her hood, pulling it lower over her forehead.
"You should keep this hood drawn low, little miss," he advised seriously, his voice earnest with genuine worry. "Try not to draw too much attention to yourself. There's outsiders at the inn tonight—four men in green cloaks with sharp blades, one even carrying a bow. Don't know their intent, but something about 'em doesn't sit right with me."
Lili stared up at him quietly, heart skipping slightly at his words, though she quickly reminded herself that this was still just a cosplay event. Yet the grave seriousness in Alcott's tone was unsettling, even if she thought it unnecessary.
"Just be careful around everyone tonight," he continued urgently. "Matter of fact, trust nobody in this village save for Greg the innkeeper—he'll sort you out, lass."
She nodded obediently, but the old man suddenly frowned deeply and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Wait—actually, maybe steer clear of Robin. Fine hunter he is, good family too, but he's young and wild, you never know. Just stick with Greg tonight, that's safest."
At Lili's hesitant look, the old man sighed and patted her shoulder reassuringly. "If anything goes wrong—anything at all—just come back here to me, alright? I'll help you as best as an old gate guard can."
Lili offered him a faint smile, carefully masking her discomfort at the old man's foul breath and oily appearance. "Thank you, Old Man Al, but really—I'll be fine. You worry too much."
Without waiting for a reply, she quickly spun and began climbing down the ladder, eager to escape the pungent smell and to finally explore the village she'd worked so hard to reach.
From atop the battlements, Fenton gave an enthusiastic bark, and Lili smiled gently, waving goodbye to the friendly dog before she set off down the shadowy street.
Beneath her feet, the uneven dirt path was marked with the fresh tracks of carts and countless animal hooves. Animal droppings littered the edges of the road, and the sharp smell of manure was heavy in the night air. Lili looked around carefully, her bright eyes wide with curiosity as she took in her surroundings.
Every building was simple and weathered, constructed from roughly hewn timber with thick straw thatch roofs. It all looked like something straight from the Dark Ages, even more authentic and rough than she'd anticipated. A soft wind rustled the straw roofs and wooden shutters, and the distant creak of the windmill blades echoed faintly from the outskirts. Her eyes lingered on it for a moment. It looked oddly advanced for this seemingly primitive place, as did the watermill on the village outskirts, illuminated faintly by moonlight.
The only source of welcoming warmth and illumination was the Inn. It stood out from the village with its sturdy construction and strangely blue-painted tile roof. Warm orange light spilled invitingly from its windows and doorways, carrying distant echoes of laughter, chatter, and the occasional clinking of cups. Excitement swelled in her chest as she approached, her fears and uncertainties gradually fading into the background.
Grinning softly to herself, she pulled her hood a bit lower, chuckling softly under her breath as she whispered confidently into the cool night air, "Alright world, here comes your bravest hobbit girl—ready for hamburgers, fries, and maybe even a cola if I'm lucky."
Steeling herself for whatever awaited inside, Lili quickened her pace toward the warm, welcoming glow of the Dancing Dragon Inn.