Arlene walked to the south parts of this Hub. Yellow tents as far as the eyes could bear witness. Few adventurers and guild members walking by with goals in mind, nodding to her as to greet. They seemed to be swayed along in the gentle morning rhythm. It was going to be hard to find where Naciv was in doing ‘paperwork’… whatever Xylia meant. Her eyes darted to the biggest one of the tent. After all, that was where she met Naciv when she needed information.

  She didn’t quite know what to talk with Naciv about. The dungeon and its fabricated story? She could ask further, but she didn’t have Wattyson’s brain and his hunter’s instinct to push down even further—to drill till others firmly understand.

  Compounded with her knowing Naciv was a vampire complicated the matter. She knew from Wattyosn that knowledge of them was dangerous, but Naciv was an allied in the group. He didn’t seem to show any desire in harming the others. Maybe they weren’t all so bad? Maybe she could get to learn more of the supernatural?

  She briefly brushed that headband she got in Tamare—understanding now why Naciv was looking to her before backing down in an argument or confrontation with Rinea. Would that be a sensitive topic to bring up? She shook her head. That should be something to pursue after checking if everyone was alright after a night rest. Rinea was recovering. Xylia was being dramatic mage as usual.

  The tent was now before her. Inside was of course quiet—much like the same when she first arrived here. She wondered if that guild staff would be there asleep and hunched over on the table again, while Naciv would be shifting about near one of the corners.

  Brushing the flaps inside, and everything was exactly how she expected it. That staff, the one who rushed to them proclaiming she and Wattyson needed five people to enter that dungeon, was asleep head buried in between his arms on the table. However, the table was filled with books, scrolls and other writing instruments. There was one different though—it was cleared off small wooden sculpts or dolls to insinuate or resembling a war plan for the dungeon.

  It wasn’t just the table. The tent was less full and more organized than before. Gone were a bunch of tools, papers and whatnot scattering about as every intel were either outdated or just flat out wrong. They were more neatly organized now, and small carts darted sparingly. They were getting ready to move out.

  Not to wake that staff, she took long strode along to the only person awake and had their back turned while crouching—Naciv. He was like before, just shifting documents and taking stockhold on actual credible information for keeping or to throw away any fake one. She could hear him muttering why was the Guild throwing everything away? He wanted to take all of them back as a lesson… or perhaps there was another reason?

  She nudged Naciv’s shoulder with a playful double taps. “Naciv,” she said. His shoulders shivered afterward from the touch—a natural reaction of being ‘startled’.

  He turned his head around slowly, erratically like a mechanical being whose gears hadn’t been greased. His eyes were barely opened. He replied back stuttering, the cold breath exhaled out. “Y-yes, Miss Arlene?”

  Of course she paid it no mind. The morning in this Hub was cold after all. The tent didn’t shield the inside away from the relenting weather outside. She folded her arms back. “What are you doing?”

  His eyes quickly returned back to the numerous documents. His movements returned fluidly, shuffling and quickly skimming through the contents. “Oh just,” he answered sheepishly, his mouth barely moved, “some works from the Guild. Nothing more.”

  “Oh?” She crouched beside him, leaning to read yet failing to understand the gibberish skittish writings. Nonetheless, she tried. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

  His reply came quick but still meek. “No, why do you ask?”

  “That explained your behavior. You probably enjoyed last night’s party, didn’t you?” She side eyed him with a smirk. “How does it feel to finally rid of that monster?”

  He let out a sigh. Arlene was unsure whether this was relief or tiredness or something else. He continued, “Honestly, I don’t know… I mean yeah I contributed to it, but most of it was thanks to you and… Ana—Wattyson.”

  A pat to his back, multiple times. She assured with a smile. “Don’t sell yourself short. We were a team, weren’t we? Any contribution helped.” She took her hand back to rest on her chin. “Say, Naciv,” she quieted down to a whisper. “Mind if I ask you something?”

  “Sure, what is it?”

  Her eyes narrowed just slightly. “Why do you keep saying Ana when referring to Wattyson? You and him seem to be quite acquainted.” She knew he was a vampire thanks to Wattyson, but did Naciv knew she knew? She was probing him, to test her own ability to gauge information out.

  But alas, the vampire before her didn’t budge. “Oh… it’s because I knew him back then when he was in the city. I’m used to call him by his last name, Anathesis.” It came out so natural.

  She scoffed. “Anathesis?” Her brows raised as she found the name quite unusual, but still she was amused. “How long have you known him?”

  “Oh you know,” He flicked his wrist nonchalantly. “Since when he was in the city. Did you not know?”

  Her head shook and shrugged. “Alas, I don’t know. He doesn’t talk much of himself when I found him in the Red Grove. I… really want to get to know him you know?”

  “Huh?” His eyebrows raised as he turned to her. “I thought you two were… couple?”

  “Couple?!” Her voice raised slightly as she stared straight to his eyes. Her head tilted with the help of her resting hand. “What give you that impression?”

  “Well you two were always together…”

  “It’s because we’re companions! We stick together and travel together on a journey.”

  “Right… so are you wanting to know him to… get close?”

  “No. I just thought I should know my companion better, that’s all. However, as said companion isn’t complying to tell me himself, I ought to ask someone who might know him. You.” Her eyes sharpened with a playful grin. “How did you two meet?”

  The curveball was thrown back to Naciv. She got him. He had to answer now.

  He returned to shuffling through documents, eyes on the papers. His voice grew even more quieter. “I met him in an alleyway. He uhh… helped me you see when I was down on my luck.” His lip trembled slightly. “He gave me… something of a purpose to continue on, and I felt like I owe him since.”

  Her eyes softened. “I see.” She rested a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know he was an altruistic. I guess… he does care for others in a way.”

  It got him to chuckle. “Tell me about it… to others, he just seems like an asshole.”

  “I guess so.” She sighed out from just looking at him work while she did nothing. “Why are you working anyway?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were in a group with me and ended the threat in Floor Forty. Shouldn’t you be… I don’t know, resting? You were beaten up and shredded with wounds in the dungeon.”

  He shifted the pile of papers aside and pull the bundles of scrolls in, already skimming in the next batch. “Honestly, I just feel like doing this feels right. Last night? It was a blast, but afterward… I wanted to do something that remind me of… myself you know?” He glanced halfway to her. “In the dungeon, even though we went for a day, it felt like I was on high alert every times. I was fearing we would come across something like that lion slime again.”

  Her hand was still on his stiff shoulder. “How do you feel now? Are you still under delirium?” His shoulder still for a beat.

  The tone of his voice came out controlled. “I’m adjusting… and for the record, I wasn’t delirious. I was just suspicious of Rinea at the time.”

  There were two types of delirium. The natural mundane and the supernatural. That shoulder stilled for a beat signaled her to keep going—to keep probing. She had a half smile on her now. “I guess so, Wattyson told me you weren’t under one. Still, couldn’t hurt to get yourself checked just in case. Wouldn’t want you to suddenly lose a week of memories now, would we?”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “R-Right. That would be bad.”

  “It would be horrible.”

  “Horrible yes.”

  “So, how are you feeling?”

  “…I’m adjusting. I’ll be okay.” He continued skimming through the scrolls. “I’ll stay… myself.”

  Arlene didn’t respond immediately. She softened into a warm smile. Her hand raised and a quiet mutter, she conjured a small orb of hovering flame. “Here, don’t worry. It won’t burn the papers. Just to keep you warm.” It was a small flicker of fire, akin to a fading candlelight but enough for him to keep being warm. She adjusted her mana to be sure of it.

  A soft smile was put on him as well. “Thanks.”

  “Do you want me to help?”

  “Huh? O-Oh no,” He waved his hands up. “No need. You’re the Chosen One. I… this is my job. I can handle it.”

  “Hmm… suit yourself then.” She just watched him work.

  He continued, but then slower and slower than before. “Miss Arlene?” He glanced to her briefly. “Do you not have somewhere else to be?”

  “Not really.”

  “…What about A-Wattyson?”

  “Oh,” her eyes widened slightly. “He’s been taken away.”

  “Away?”

  She nodded. “Yes. To talk about the Red Grove with a Bavasr’s official.”

  He paused for a moment before asking, “Red Grove? What is that?”

  The question seemingly innocent caught her. If he had known Wattyson back then, he would’ve known what it was right? For starter, that ‘Anathesis’ last name was unusual already. She searched his eyes while he was continuing to work. It was genuine. The story about meeting him in an alleyway earlier was slowly losing its credibility. Nonetheless, she decided not to push.

  She waved slightly in front, murmuring a drawn out “Errrrr… it’s this land he has. I don’t know the size of it, but apparently it covers the entire forest bordering Bavasr, as well as many other kingdoms.”

  “The Tu’ei forest?”

  “No no,” she shook her head. “It’s a forest of red. Red wood, red leaves, red hue, red everything. He said it’s an unclaimed land due to amount of large beasts roaming about.”

  He nodded, absorbing everything like they were precious liquor of knowledge. “Uh huh, then why does the government official want to talk to him about it?”

  “Apparently HE own it.”

  “I see.” He moved the bundles of scroll aside before ushering in more stack of documents. A moment passed before realization set. “He what?”

  “Yes. He said because it is unclaimed, and he has a cabin in it. He lives there therefore he owns it.”

  “…Wouldn’t that make him… a sovereign?”

  “Why is that?”

  “He owns land no? It’s not registered to any kingdoms, republics or empires. It is only to him.”

  It made her laugh, wholeheartedly quiet to not disturb the one person asleep in this tent. “I guess so, but truth be told, I rather think he just lived there to not be disturbed by people. I doubt he cared much for politics. Have you ever seen him in the adventurer’s guild? How he acts?”

  His mouth opened to answer. He had seen how he acted nearly a week ago. It was there he first saw Anathema in the flesh. He raised his lip but then quickly quelled it away. “No, I haven’t. What was he like?”

  “He acted like one of those tough cats,” she let out mid snickering. “He did not want to bother with paperwork or any bureaucracy at all. It was a hassle to even get him to register in the first place!” She settled down, her eyes softened. “But it was worth it. I get to go on quests and adventures with my new companion, and he won’t get stopped at every new city gates.” She pumped up a small thump. “A win-win.”

  Her gaze returned to him, leaning back slightly. “Say, Naciv,” she spoke with the same warm like they were just catching up. “You met him in an alleyway in a city right? How… was he able to get or live in there? Because when I took him to register, he didn’t have any ID that was applicable.”

  The person in front of her did not stop skimming through the papers before shuffling them away. If anything, he sped up. He chuckled slightly, taking a bit longer to answer. “Well you know, he lived there. You don’t need an ID where you’re born, right?”

  This behavior, she clocked it to him trying to act reminiscing of old times, of old memories. “Hmmm, he has no ID because he was born there?”

  “Yes.”

  “But he does look like someone who travel a lot outside the cities. His robes and clothing attires for example doesn’t fit anything west of Avalevd.”

  “Yes, it doesn’t. It is because he was born in the east. You don’t need ID in the east”

  “Right… you were too?”

  “I was too yes. I met him there in the city of Buxingsho.”

  She didn’t press yet, letting his words sank in. Buxingsho was indeed to the east. It was an island city state. However, he had made his mistake. How would Wattyson travel here to the west then? She smirked. “Ok, then… how did he come here to the west?”

  He only shrugged. “Beats me, I don’t know. Last time I saw him was in Buxingsho. How he came to the west is something I lack the knowledge of,” he said with a hint of bitterness.

  Choosing to ignore it, she asked. “Do you have an ID?”

  He nodded. “I do, yeah. I’m an adventurer after all.” He glanced to her sitting crossed legs with her fingers tapping on her knees. “Honestly, Miss Arlene, it makes sense no? He came and then just set up place in this ‘Red Grove’. He probably didn’t walk into any border checkpoint. The Red Grove is the intersection between east and west, right?”

  “Naciv. The Red Grove is surrounded by five nations in the west of Avalevd. You don’t simply wander into it without at least passing through border patrols.”

  His breathing halted then exhaled out, “Sorry, I’m not that great at geography.”

  Arlene already aware this was a lie. Wattyson didn’t come from the East, at least didn’t live there prior to the Red Grove. It was Bald’ur of Equilarum. That kingdom fell two hundred years ago, and it was a western kingdom. Never mind the fact she herself was born in Roye’shi, a kingdom bordering the east of Avalevd. She would know ID was a thing there from travelers passing through. She saved this line of thinking for later.

  She continued, “Hey, Naciv. Mind if I ask something about you?”

  “Eh?” He jolted looking at her. “About me?”

  “Yes. I… came here to ask about Wattyson, but I think I should get to know you a bit too.”

  “A-Alright, what is it?”

  She leaned down to rest on her hand. “How are you still walking? You took a lot of beating and wounds right? I brushed it off earlier, but I can’t consolidate how you’re still… alive.”

  Her eyes narrowed without any hint of malicious, just inquisitive inquiry. “How do you do it? I would very much like to know. I think it’ll help me as the Chosen One.”

  “W-Why do you want to know? You’re already the Chosen One. I don’t think you need to since you already defeated the Dark lord.”

  “Maybe not, but I’m an adventurous girl at heart. If I see something that I can learn, I should learn it. Just in case. Most of the spells and magic I never use much, but they saved my life when needed.”

  He shifted slightly, leaning to focus on his work more. “I’m sorry… I don’t think I can teach you. It’s just my biology.”

  Her eyebrows raised. “Biology?”

  “Yeah… part of herculean bloods.”

  “So you’re saying you’re blessed?”

  “No,” he shook it off quickly. “It’s not that I am a herculean heritage or anything. I was just born like this… I guess it is blessed in a way?”

  Her gaze lightened up. Noticing Naciv’s eyes were on the task at hand, she took this chance to take off that strangely pattern headband she wore. “Funny,” she said softly. “I once heard someone say the same thing, how their blood was blessed. It was most recent, long after the Dark Lord fell.”

  She brushed on that headband. “That person was a joy to be around… she always had a bright smile on her face. I didn’t know her much… I only met her briefly, but it felt like she had the biggest heart in that village.”

  “Naciv,” she tapped his shoulder before extending out the headband. “This belongs to your sister, doesn’t it? You have a similar name to her, and the same outlook on yourself in a way. Naciv. Neciel.”

  Naciv turned to find it. That strange weirdly shaped pattern on a headband. The one his sister wore when he helped her escape the vampire society to live hidden in a faraway village. The one belonging to the sister killed by Anathema, whom he thanked for granting a quick death. Now it sat idly in the Chosen One’s hand.

  His voice dropped low, almost defeated. “You knew.” His shoulders loosened out the tenseness. He didn’t even notice. “Did you… learn of this yourself?”

  Arlene shook her head. “No, Wattyson told me the night prior. I kind of use you as a practice to learn how to persuade like him.” She put the headband beside him. “For the records, I knew you were lying when you talked about how the East didn’t require any ID. I had an inkling when you said his last name was ‘Anathesis’. Who has their last name like that?!” She patted him twice on the shoulder.

  Naciv chuckled finally freer than the previous one. “Yeah… I thought I was doing well there, but it’s hard to lie to someone like you whom fought with me in that dungeon, and travel with him.”

  He picked up that headband like it was precious jewelry. Tracing his fingers along to feel that soft crinkled texture on that leathery headband. Arlene saw his expression to that of light genuine before returning back to tiredness and weariness.

  He continued, “Also, if you’re planning to probe someone like me, you should prepare next time. You won’t know if I’m going to lash out at you or snitch on you. You should at least prepare anything that can immobilize or kill.”

  “You would do that?”

  “Vampires would,” he added hastily yet tone still lowed. He was still mindful of that one sleeping person. He leaned in to talk, hush hush. “They are a bunch of prideful people that don’t want to be found. If you learn of their existence, even if you don’t outright call them out, they will remember it as a vendetta against themselves.”

  Arlene leaned closer as if they were conspiring. “What about you? Would you? Aren’t you one too?”

  He chuckled nervously. “I’m still trying to stay human as much as possible. Quite frankly I’m more scared of him to snitch on you.”

  She nodded slowly, stroking her chin. “I see, duly noted. Say… since now we finally established that I know what you are, and I don’t really have anything to do until Wattyson come back. Can I ask you more about… the—“

  “—shhh!” He shushed her then immediately scanned his surroundings. Still the same. “I don’t know who is listening or if anyone nearby. Good things we’re still in early dawn.” He glanced to her before gazing to the papers in between. “If you wanna know more… I guess you can help me first? I-I’ll tell you all I know after we’re done and after we find a secure isolated area, please?”

  She scoffed and picked up those papers. “Sure. I’ll hold you to it.”

  “Oh and,” he picked up that headband to her. “You should keep it. I think… my sister would prefer you to wear it rather than being left in a box or an heirloom.”

  The gesture caught her off guard. She thought he would keep it to remember her by, but she didn’t to say it out—fearing it would be rude to a next of kin. She accepted it with two hands and took to wear it once more. “Thanks,” she let out. “I’ll continue to wear this. She won’t be remembered by you only.”

  Naciv already turned away, but a small muttered meant only for her was heard. “Thank you.”