A group of children scrambled to the top of a gentle hill just outside the village. One of them pointed excitedly, "Look! You can see the river from here!"
Heads snapped around, eyes searching the horizon. A girl scoffed, "Nu uh, that's not the river."
"It is! You can see the bridge right there!" a young boy insisted, his finger stabbing the air toward a distant crossing.
The others squinted, trying to spot the bridge—except for one small child whose gaze was fixed elsewhere. He watched a cloaked figure dart between two buildings, moving swiftly and silently, slipping through the shadows cast by the midday sun.
The figure paused at the corner, peering cautiously before revealing a familiar face—Lily. She dashed across the street, ducking behind a stack of dusty crates. The faint shape of a ghostly figure flickered behind her shadow, almost fading.
"We're running out of time," the shadow whispered urgently. "Find this Nesfundur soon, or you'll be searching for him alone."
Lily nodded, biting back the tug of worry. "I know. I feel the pull, but I can't find him."
Peeking cautiously from her hiding spot, she watched the village's everyday life unfold—mothers carrying laundry, neighbors cleaning the rubble left by the Gultonk's rampage. Her eyes caught three knights on horseback riding down the road, heading her way.
Heart pounding, she pressed herself flat against the rough building wall, holding her breath as they thundered past. Snatches of their conversation drifted through the air: "We caught the Boarkar woman and another stranger."
Before she could gather more, they were gone.
Exhaling slowly, Lily crept between the narrow alleys. Suddenly, a tug at her shadow startled her; she turned to see her brother's silhouette fading into nothingness. A pang of grief clenched her heart, but she pushed it aside and moved on.
Ahead, a beggar slumbered by the roadside. Lily picked up a small rock and tossed it at him. Startled, he blinked awake and looked at her with bleary eyes.
"What do you want, lady? I've got better things to do," he grunted.
Lily grabbed him by the collar, irritation flashing in her eyes. "I'm looking for a Nesfundur. He was here, joking and playing music."
Swallowing hard, the beggar stammered, "Knights took him last night. Said something about the Gultonk…"
Lily released him before he could finish. "Where would they take him?"
The beggar pointed down the road. "Their main office. Down the way."
Rolling her eyes, Lily started walking.
"Oh, no coin for me?" The beggar's voice followed, but before he could finish, Lily tossed a nearly empty coin pouch his way. He caught it and slipped away, hands gesturing like a conductor's as if in thanks.
Soon, Lily approached the office. A child's piercing screams cut through the afternoon stillness, growing louder as she drew near.
A man carrying the child glanced up, eyes locking on hers before he bolted down an alleyway.
"Wait! Why are you running? I've done nothing to you!" Lily called after him.
He shouted back, "Outsiders aren't welcome here anymore! Not at my inn!"
Confusion twisted in her chest. Just yesterday, he had been cheerful, accommodating—even respectful.
Turning away, Lily stepped toward the Knight's office.
From a safe distance, she watched the patrols circle, archers perched on rooftops scanning the horizon. The sun still hung high, and she would have to wait before calling on her brother.
Finding a sturdy tree near the edge of the property, Lily climbed into the thick branches, nestling in the shade. From her vantage point, she memorized the rhythm of the guards' rounds—their timing, their patterns.
"That much she could do at least," her brothers' words echoed softly in her mind, a small comfort from days gone by.
Her fingers traced the rough bark beneath her, grounding her in the moment. Yet her thoughts drifted—overwhelmed by the weight of the mission ahead, and the silent fears she refused to voice aloud.
She stilled herself, burying the fear and anxiety within her deep deep down in her stomach.
The village seemed to pulse with life around her, yet beneath the surface she sensed a tension, a quiet fear that churned like a low storm. She recalled the gleam in the knights' eyes earlier—a cruel certainty that unsettled her deeply.
She had always been the one to stay strong for her family, to shoulder the burdens without complaint. But sitting in the tree's shelter, the creeping loneliness wrapped around her like the dusk settling in.
I must be ready, she told herself. For him. For all of us.
Her breath slowed, and a fragile calm seeped in. The path ahead was uncertain and dangerous, but she would not falter.
The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the village, and Lily tightened her grip on the branch beneath her, eyes burning with quiet determination.