Upon entering the tent, Paliborn unburdened himself of his pack and surveyed the scene before him. A single, unadorned candlestick cast flickering shadows upon the modest interior, which was punctuated by a gilded globe, intricately illustrated tarot cards, and a smattering of scrolls and weeds that were arranged upon a round table occupying the center of the six-foot radius space. Wooden shelves, affixed to the periphery of the table, supported a plethora of jars filled with an array of liquids and herbs, tomes of knowledge, and a scattering of garments. Amidst this collection of oddities sat a sleek, black cat. Paliborn, nervously, brought his thumb to his mouth and bit it.

  "Is that black cat yours?" he asked, struggling to conceal his apprehension.

  "No," replied the little girl, "it belongs to my aunt, Belize. Fear not, it is harmless and won't attack. It's not fond of strangers, but it won't do you any harm."

  Paliborn and the cat held a mutual disdain for each other. He felt a deep-seated unease in the presence of felines, especially the black ones. As he eyed the cat, he could see its hairs beginning to stand on end, and he heard the tell-tale rumblings emanating from its belly.

  "Black cats have never taken kindly to me," he confessed, "and I must admit, I harbor some resentment towards them. For some reason, they seem to view me as their adversary in the environments we share."

  "I have noticed," said the little girl, suppressing a giggle. "Beliza, leave us be!" she called out.

  With one eye fixed upon Paliborn, the black cat sauntered out of the tent with a regal air.

  "Innome dehe pahatre, des una de manstar," muttered trhe halfling.

  "Allendra translated, "Stay away from me, be close to demonic beasts."

  "Once again, you astound me, Eli. Your command of the language of Ancient Light is remarkable."

  "It's all thanks to the Orion temples," replied Allendra. "The Collection of Sayings and Proverbs, volume two, page thirteen. Though I must confess, I cannot recall the specific passage at present."

  Paliborn perused the tomes lining the shelves, his pointed ears keenly attuned to the sounds outside. He strained to discern the voices and movements beyond the walls, all while masking his vigilant scrutiny from the little girl at his side.

  "Your ears, Pal, are akin to those of the elves," observed Allendra, "though a bit more diminutive. And I wager your feet are not shaggy and large like theirs. You are not like other halflings."

  "Indeed," agreed Paliborn. "I am a mix of the best traits, plucked from here and there."

  Curious, Allendra inquired about his place of origin. "Where were you born, Pal?"

  But the halfling deflected the question, as he so often did. "I cannot recall."

  "Then you are not from Half-Town?" pressed Allendra.

  "The common misconception is that all halflings hail from Half-Town," replied Paliborn, his eyes glinting with knowledge. "In truth, halflings also abound in the far north and east. There are even fair-skinned halflings who dwell in the Blackened Continent of Ankhyra, beyond the Wastelands, in the Black Desert and the Mist Lands. Though they are not the finest example of our kind, as they possess a sadistic streak and relish ambushes."

  Paliborn gestured animatedly, shaping his tale with vivid details. Allendra chuckled at the halfling's antics, but their mirth was cut short by Lena's entrance, her countenance ashen.

  "What ails you, that you should laugh?" the witch-woman snapped at the little girl, her voice grating and sharp.

  Allendra cowered beneath the folds of her hooded robes, sensing the darkness that emanated from Lena's aura. Paliborn, too, felt the oppressive weight of the witch woman's disrturbing presence, sensing the girl's pessimistic inner world and lack of spirit.

  "Well, what have you brought us, then?" Lena demanded, without so much as glancing at the halfling's face. "A purse of gold, and some instructions from your wizard, no doubt."

  "Nay, lady," replied Paliborn, reaching into his bundle and drawing forth a handful of dusty tomes, which he carefully wiped clean before presenting to the little girl. "These books are a gift for Allendra, from my friend Sarcastic The Wise. He recommended them highly, for the study of the arts and lore."

  Lena narrowed her eyes, scanning the titles with disdain. "The Stage World, Introduction to World History, The First Act of Magic... what use have I for such trifles? You expect me to teach magic to a mere child?"

  Paliborn shrugged, unaffected by her scorn. "I cannot say, lady. But here is a letter from my old friend, sealed and closed, that may answer your questions."

  "And what of payment?" Lena demanded, her tone growing harsher.

  "Master Sandman, aka Sarcastic believes you have adapted well to your new life," Paliborn replied, his voice calm and even.

  The woman regarded him with a withering look before turning on her heel. "Well then," she sighed, her dark aura expanding until Paliborn felt it almost tangibly. The halfling flapped his hand as though swatting away flies, struggling against the memories evoked by the unsettling sensation.

  'If you permit, milady," Paliborn ventured, "I would be honored to join you for dinner tonight, and offer to prepare a delicious dish with my secret recipe of sauces and spices. Being a road-loving adventurer, I'm quite skilled with the pot and the pan."

  The woman did not reply at once, instead stooping to retrieve a few scattered trinkets from the ground.

  Allendra's face lit up at the prospect of a decent meal. Her aunt, on the other hand, was less impressed.

  "On one condition, halfling," she spoke at last, pausing to look up at him. "I need to step out for some fresh air tonight. If you'd see to Elia while I'm gone, I might consider not only your company for supper but also lodging for the night. You'll have to make do with the corner, I'm afraid. We have no extra bedding."

  "Of course, my lady," Paliborn agreed amiably, bowing low. "Wherever I lay my head is home."

  "Whatever. Just keep your distance," she muttered, pulling the sheet that served as a makeshift curtain separating the tent's interior, and disappearing behind it to change her attire.

  "And if you allow, my lady," Paliborn ventured, "I'd be delighted to take Allendra with me on a hunt for rabbits in the woods south of town, before the light fades."

  The woman shot Paliborn a frosty glare over the curtain, then disappeared behind the screen. 'Just go,' she muttered in a voice that belied uncertainty.

  Without further delay, Paliborn took Allendra by the hand and led her away from the tent, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere that lingered there.

  As the sun sank lower on the horizon, the once-thriving festival grounds now lay empty, save for a few flickering, vermilion lights.

  "WIDOW BLACK OF HAROVA – FORTUNE TELLER AND HEALER - WE ARE CLOSED." Paliborn chuckled as he glanced at the sign on the door of the tent.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Do you know where Harova lies, Eli?" he inquired as they strolled through the streets.

  The girl shook her head.

  "Then let us speak of geography. Do you enjoy geography?"

  "I prefer history."

  "In the central north of the Ankhyra Continent, there is a city-state known as Xaurus, where the heavens are shrouded in perpetual darkness. Each city in the Dark Continent is a sovereign state unto itself. Harova is named after the lake beside it, and the largest river flowing into said lake is known as the Harova River. This river flows from the mountain waters that cascade down from the Pharapol Mountains to the Alhazar in the northwest, from Mistral to Mistrake in the southeast, and from there into Lake Xaurus. Legend has it that those who drank from its waters would either attain immortality or suffer an agonizing and protracted demise, for the water was said to have been boiled in the sacred fire of Phyros, infused with the magical mists of Mistral, and flavored with the ancient sandstorms of Pharapol."

  "The water of life?" Allendra inquired.

  "It may also be deemed the water of death," Paliborn responded.

  "A double-edged blade, then," remarked Allendra.

  The halfling furrowed his brow at her reply. This aphorism was one of the fundamental tenets of Anchyran assassins, death-dealers, and practitioners of the dark arts. He jotted it down in his notes for the wizard to interpret at a later time. For now, he was merely an observer on this journey.

  Crescent Grove was a verdant expanse covering the slopes of the wide hill upon which the town of Adylle was built, resembling a crescent moon, encircling the entire southern wing and half of the western and eastern wings like a protective barrier. The densely wooded grove offered strategic advantages for defending the town, but also had its drawbacks. The locals regarded it as an inseparable part of the town, and from a bird's-eye view, it was the only lush, forested area in the region, amid vast and colorful plains.

  As he strolled amidst the towering cypresses, lush plane trees, majestic firs, and ancient willows, Paliborn inhaled the cool, forest air, relishing its distinct essence. "Breathe in, Eli, this untainted air is like nothing else, an indispensable scent. The tranquility of the unbridled woods is priceless," he said, savoring the moment.

  "You're such a poetic halfling," Allendra giggled.

  "Listen to the music of the forest, the sparrows, and nightingales singing melodies in a forgotten language," Paliborn said, continuing his reverie.

  Allendra scanned the forest, her eyes darting back and forth in search of their elusive quarry. "Where are they?" she asked, frustration lacing her tone.

  Paliborn's eyes twinkled mischievously as he raised his finger and pointed towards a nearby pine tree. "They're all around us. But look closely," he whispered. "Do you see that kingfisher perched on the third branch to your left? Its wings are blue as the deepest sea, far from its home in Smyrnia."

  Allendra's gaze followed his outstretched finger, and she gasped in awe at the bird's exquisite beauty and its effortless freedom. "I wish I could be like them," she murmured, her voice tinged with wistfulness.

  "How so?" Paliborn probed gently.

  "I wish I could soar high in the sky, unfettered by worries or responsibilities," Allendra replied, her eyes still fixed on the bird.

  Paliborn's face softened with empathy. "But you're only five and a half years old. You have your whole life ahead of you, filled with infinite possibilities," he reassured her.

  Allendra's expression darkened, and her voice trembled with emotion. "But we're living in exile, Pal. You don't have to hide it from me. I know that my aunt was punished by the wise man for something she did. But why? Why is she suffering so much? Isn't her punishment enough?"

  Paliborn furrowed his brow, pondering Allendra's questions. He understood her thirst for knowledge, but the answers she sought were shrouded in secrecy. "Your aunt is not in exile, my dear. She and the wise Sandman are trying to protect you both from danger," he explained, hoping to ease her worries.

  "But why do we have to run away? I want to know what's going on. I know we are hiding from someone. How can I flee from something I know nothing about? And why won't Sarcastic answer my questions? My aunt forbids me from asking, but how am I supposed to learn if I can't ask the right questions? The books I read don't offer the answers I seek." Allendra persisted.

  Paliborn grimaced, knowing how frustrating it must be for the smart girl to be left in the dark. "You have a right to know," he said firmly. "Sandman has his reasons for keeping things hidden. However, I will speak with him and try to get some answers for you. We'll get to the bottom of this, I promise."

  Allendra's eyes lit up with hope, and Paliborn felt a sense of relief. "Now, let's find our bunny," he said, changing the subject.

  Together they scoured the forest floor, searching for signs of their hunt. The ground sloped downward, and the rustling of fallen pine leaves underfoot echoed through the trees. The warm spring evening was alive with the chirping of crickets and the flickering of fireflies. As they made their way deeper into the forest, Paliborn couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding. Danger lurked in these woods, and he knew that they needed to be cautious.

  "I want to catch a firefly!" cried Allendra, rarely showing real signs of that she is only a kid and began to run after the glowing insects.

  Paliborn and Allendra had long abandoned their original purpose, swept away by the thrill of the firefly chase. For Allendra, it was without a doubt the happiest day of her life. But now, the little girl was panting for breath. They had finally reached the foot of the hill, where the land stretched out flat. There, they stumbled upon a babbling brook of pure, crystal-clear water. They quenched their thirst with its life-giving elixir. Surrounding the spring were clusters of rocks.

  Paliborn clambered up the boulders and dazzled Allendra with a display of acrobatics. He leapt from one boulder to another, somersaulting in mid-air and gracefully landing on the next one, even walking on his hands over the challenging terrain. The young girl couldn't help but admit that the halfling outdid the acrobat they had watched a few hours ago, and she gave him a standing ovation.

  But the day was swiftly coming to an end, and as the sun's final red beams faded into darkness, the night fell upon them like a blanket. No moon graced the sky, and the stars were the only source of light.

  Suddenly, as if summoned by some dark force, shadows twisted and writhed, encircling the little girl with a malevolent aura. The astute hafling perceived the encroaching shadows and cast a quick glance at Allendra, who was suddenly shrinking away, pulling the hood of her robe over her face as if trying to hide from the ominous darkness. From his vantage point atop the boulder, Paliborn could see the shadows swirling around her like a tightening noose. He was about to issue a warning when Allendra, heedless of the danger, spoke up.

  "Let's go, Pal. I think a rabbit went up that slope over yonder," she said, setting off up the hill again.

  Silently observing her for a while, Paliborn waited with bated breath, hoping she'd turn around. But Allendra was already hastening ahead, and the shadows continued their chase, widening the circle and receding ever so slightly. Pal drew a deep breath and kept his distance, keeping a watchful eye on the girl and the shadows' erratic movements. The child was racing up the hill with an unwavering determination, heedless of the thorny brambles that snagged at her clothing. As though reaching the top of the hill would solve everything. She gasped, shuddering with exhaustion, and stumbled now and again, yet still, she didn't cry out to the halfling for help.

  "I think, Pal..." She halted her words to gulp down air. "The rabbit's burrow..." "...is atop the knoll..." Another breath. "...beside the ancient willow tree."

  "I'm with you, Elia. Fear not. I'm right here, tracking your every move. We'll catch it soon."

  "Don't call me Elia!" The girl shrieked, her voice piercing the air. "It's Allendra! I hate Elia!"

  "Okay, Allendra. My apologies. We're nearly there, just a bit more to go."

  Paliborn cautiously drew his dagger, holding it at the ready as if it could fend off the shadowy creatures.

  "Reveal yourselves, you cowardly shades! I've fought you before, and I can do it again. It's been some time, but I'll figure out a way." The halfling murmured, his voice low and steady. "In the past, we had enchanted weapons, of course." He sighed, reminiscing about bygone days.

  The steep slope had finally dropped, and they arrived at the ancient willow tree Allendra had mentioned. Exhausted, the girl knelt, thorns and sharp branches piercing her skin as she struggled to catch her breath. Her ragged breaths became quicker and quicker, and she began whispering something unintelligible. The halfling strained to hear, but the words sounded like grunts and slurs, rising in tempo like the relentless beat of a full leather drum.

  Then, as if the forest had silenced itself to reveal the truth, Paliborn realized what he was hearing: the pounding of Allendra's heart. It was as if the girl was on the brink of bursting like a balloon, and Paliborn was torn between wanting to rush to her aid and hesitating, unsure of what to do as the encroaching shadows closed in.

  But just as the darkness threatened to swallow her whole, a bloodcurdling scream pierced the air, its superhuman shrill so powerful that even the birds took flight and the trees shook. With no time to evade, Paliborn covered his ears in agony as the shockwave blasted through him, the diameter of its effect shockingly vast. His insides quivered, as if trying to avoid the invisible blow, and he doubled over, trying not to vomit.

  After a brief moment, the little girl rose as if nothing had happened. She beamed at the halfling and gestured behind him. "Behold, my dear friend, the rabbit we've been seeking."

  Paliborn shifted his weight, struggling to turn around. He gazed at the lifeless rabbit in the brush. The hapless creature had perished with its eyes agape, likely due to a heart seizure. The halfling scrutinized his surroundings for any lingering traces of the eerie shadows from before, but found none. The night was unremarkable, illuminated by the same anemic starlight as always. Paliborn Quickhand let out a long, deep breath. He collapsed where he was, his insides aching and his ears still ringing. At least the familiar sounds of the forest, its peerless tranquility, had returned. He drew in a slow breath to facilitate healing.