After a few hours, we finally stumble upon another village. Me and Ameline immediately enter, and I’m greeted with rows of assorted-sized houses and the smell of fresh breakfast in the air. The road is paved with stone, so our heels clack softly. Men are laughing and clinking mugs from the tavern with a traditional dome-shaped roof. Merchants are barking at potential customers.

I look around for the village’s chapel. It would have a long pipe sticking out from the roof, where Vim would burn from the lit Celestial Well, acting as a beacon for faraway outsiders seeking sanctuary. But there is no chapel, not even one in ruins.

Ameline glances in every direction like an average curious little girl. She occasionally goes off course to a house to look inside the windows. Soon, when we pass by a bakery, Ameline can’t look away from the window. 

“Sweetcakes!” Ameline chirps. “Can we get one? Do you have any money?”

“No,” Tritons said. “But maybe we can trade for one. Gus’ hunting knife might get us some money.”

As soon as we walk in the door, the smell of bread almost makes me melt into the floor. Ameline goes to the sweetcake display to gawk at the treats while I call for the baker. 

“Can I help you?” the baker says with a professional smile.

And yet, no matter how friendly he appears, his eyes send a shiver down my spine—fiendish red eyes.

“We were just wondering how much your sweetcakes cost.”

“Three dali a cake. Care for one?”

“Thank you, but no,” I say while reaching for Ameline. “We’ll come back after supper. Come on, kiddo.”

“Do they not look fresh enough for you?”

Ameline whines a bit while I drag her out the door.

“What’s wrong?”

But I don’t reply. I’m too focused on not drawing attention. So she picks up her feet and walks with her head bowed.

“You! Stop right there!”

I look back to see that same baker who stares at me with his finger pointed. The baker’s call draws the entire village’s attention onto us. Now my Auryn decides to pulse, so I squeeze Ameline’s hand tighter.

“Can you see their eyes?” I pray to her.

Ameline looks around, and she starts to understand. 

“They're-” 

But I stop her, and then I tap at my forehead.

“They’re red, like the Fiends.”

“Yes. These people are Shadowhearts.”

“Shadow… hearts?

“They’re with the darkness. Like your grandfather was.”

Before long, we find ourselves surrounded by the citizens. Each of them look malicious, like a pack of hungry dogs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a burly man says. “You don’t think we know who you are? Everyone in the world knows that emblem.”

“You’re not wanted here. Or anywhere, for that matter,” another man says.

Ameline scrunches behind me as the citizens start crowding around us. My hands are beginning to sweat.

“What are you even doing here?” another villager said. “The world doesn’t need you anymore. We’re all living just fine without you or your light.”

“Are you expecting us to bow to you? Because we don’t. Not anymore.” another says.

“I’m not looking for trouble,” I say as calmly as I can. “I’m just here for food.”

“Oh, look at that poor child,” a woman says. “She looks so terrified.”

“No need to worry, m’lady. You’ll be one of us soon,” that burly man said while kneeling to Ameline. “Lord Bishop will welcome you kindly.”

Ameline grips my tunic. Almost instantly, that same man’s shadow emerges onto his fingertips and is shaped into a longsword made of the same dark. The other villagers call upon their weapons, primarily dark swords, but some had axes, whips, and even lances.

“The girl stays here,” the biggest Shadowheart says. “She’ll be in better hands without you.”

Ameline steps around, trying to stay close to me while she whimpers sheepishly. I keep my hands up to avoid an ambush, but they keep getting closer. Finally, I look down at her, and she looks up at me with her eyes starting to twitch.

“When I say go, run as fast as you can.”

“But…”

“Use your Vim if you have to. Just run and don’t look back.”

The air goes cold and still, and I contemplate how wise it would be to call my own sword. Unfortunately, there are too many of them. But from out of nowhere, that burly man lets out a cry as his blood spatters at my feet. A blade, burning with orange flames, juts out from his chest. He drops lifeless, and the crowd gasps in shock as the attacker stands tall, holding the burning sword.

He’s a skinny fellow with long, swept-back hair and red eyes. Not as red as a Shadowheart’s, but the color of crimson blood. He wore a red tunic with festive gold trim and a black cape on his shoulder. 

“Stay back!” the man shouts as he swings his sword like a torch. “Run, man! Get out of here!” 

“GO, NOW!”

Ameline instantly scrambles away as I unveil my own burning sword, just as the Shadowhearts begin to attack, letting off deep and malicious yells. I chase after Ameline, who trips during her run. A man grabs her arm, but as soon as she thrusts her arms forward, a burst of light makes her attacker cover his face. I grab  Ameline’s hand, and we run through random alleyways and around corners, but more Shadowhearts surround us everywhere we run. I can slice some of them away, but more keep coming. When we are coming around another corner, I notice that brave fellow climbing on the tavern's roof a ways away. More Shadowhearts appear in front of us, rising from their shadows.

Before long, a gust of wind and a bright and blinding light flies past my shoulder. The Shadowhearts scream in pain, and Ameline pulls me towards the village's stables, where a woman stands in the doorway with her shortsword drawn- the light on her hands dims after her powerful spell.

The woman prompts us to hurry inside, and we press our backs against the wall with Ameline under my arm. The angry citizens start beating on the door. The woman mutters a silent prayer, and then her hands shine with bright blue light. 

FORTIMUS!

She presses the door, and the wall quickly absorbs the light, causing those dastardly Shadowhearts to scream in pain when they pound the door. One tries to break in through the window, and the woman slashes his hand.

Soon, a Shadowheart starts pounding on the roof and stomping the wood. When he falls through, I jam my sword into his back. His dying groan causes the crowd to disperse finally. That dead Shadowheart is engulfed in creeping darkness, spreading like an infection throughout his body. Finally, the dark melts off his skin, and all that is left is a withered corpse with no eyes left.

“Terrible,” the woman says. “It’s sad to see a Shadowheart’s true form.”

She’s beautiful with short black hair, so low that it only brushes her shoulders. Her eyes are blue like vast open seas. She’s dressed in white with a matching white cape and long white stockings to warm her slender legs. On her head was a Cleric’s beret, and strapped to her right hip was the sheath of her shortsword.

“You chose a bad time to come here,” she says. “And so did we. We had no idea this was a Shadowheart village.”

“Neither did we. But I’m glad to see people who are still pure. How long have you been here?”

“Not long, just about a day or so. I should’ve figured this was a dangerous village without a chapel, but we desperately needed food.”

“You must be hungry,” Ameline says as she reaches into her basket. 

She slowly pulls out her last bread roll, and the woman smiles before gingerly taking it. 

“Thank you, love,” she says after patting Ameline’s head. “I’m Charlotte Epcot. At your service, your majest-”

“You don’t have to call me that. My name is Triton. But we should keep our introductions brief. That man out there is in danger.”

“I know, and I’m getting worried,” she says while looking out the shattered window. “He’s my husband.”

Charlotte then reaches into her knapsack and reveals a small white gem wrapped in a gold band. It glows and hums a noise, sounding like a wind chime.

“I’m getting a message from him now.”

She whispered into the stone and placed the rock up to her ear. 

“Duncan? Are you okay?”

Charlotte walked away, whispering so as not to disturb the other two.

“It’ll be okay. The Flamekeeper’s here to lend us a hand.”

After a moment, she heaves a sigh and walks back to me with the gem.

“Here. Speak into this. Duncan wants to talk to you.”

I take the stone, and I hold it close to my ear. I can feel it pulsing in my hand.

“Hello?” 

“You alright? Did either of you get hurt?”

His voice echoes from the stone, much like how I talk to Ameline with prayer.

“No, we’re fine. My name is Triton.”

"Duncan Despereaux. 'Pleasure. Listen, I'm in a bit of a pickle here. I'm glad I could help you and all, but Charlotte needs to get out of here."

“We can’t just leave you here.”

“I’m afraid you haven’t got much choice in this matter. We’ve had men after us since last night, and I can’t risk anybody’s life here.”

“We’re not leaving you behind. I’m in your debt for rescuing us, so the least I can do is offer the same.”

“Alright, alright. But I can hear the bastards scratching at the doors. I think I have an idea, but it’s not gonna be pretty.”

“They have him surrounded at the tavern,” I tell Charlotte, handing back her stone. “I gotta get there fast.”

“You’re not going in there by yourself, are you?” she asks. 

“Somebody has to stay behind and watch her. Do you know a way we can leave this village quickly?”

“Yes, we managed to find an old carriage. It’s stationed not too far from here.”

“Take her and bring the carriage to the village entrance,” I say while pushing Ameline towards her.

“Will you promise to bring him back?” Charlotte asked, her eyes showing concern for her beloved.

“You have my word.”

But before I could leave, Charlotte stops me with a gentle tug. Without even blinking, she digs into her bag again and pulls out a small razor in the shape of the majestic crescent moon, with the rigid edge covering the outer region of the blade. She takes a breath and runs the razor across her index finger. Then, with her skin freshly peeled, she drags her bloody fingerprint around my forehead.

A Cleric’s blessing.

“Good luck to you.”